


Aere Perennius

by PerennialFall



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Twilight Princess
Genre: 30 Day OTP Challenge, Alternate Canon, Fluff, Friendship/Love, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-29
Updated: 2021-01-24
Packaged: 2021-03-01 20:01:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 24,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23902747
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PerennialFall/pseuds/PerennialFall
Summary: "To think that we happened to be here, at this same time and place, at this point in history, old boy."This is my take on the 30 Day OTP Challenge for the ShadLink community.
Relationships: Link/Shad (Legend of Zelda)
Comments: 183
Kudos: 35





	1. Holding Hands

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn't going to post this either, until I did. /runs away
> 
> Greetings to any new readers! This is supposed to be an off-the-cuff writing challenge for the purposes of loosening up, and I wrote it for my friends, so please don't expect much from me. Thank you for indulging my silliness. 
> 
> If any of you would like to attempt the 30 Day OTP Challenge or view the list, you can locate it on the fanlore wiki. :)

The flames went out without a trace of warning.

Against his better judgment, Shad gasped loudly. It was not a very dignified sound and he reached around blindly in the dark to ground himself. But then, he remembered the hero standing not three feet away from him and withdrew his hands. The last thing he wanted was to cause injury to the man he’d foolishly laughed at. He decided he would have to get comfortable with standing still in the void. This was completely fine.

“Hey, hey…” Link called through the dark. “It’s alright. Just stay calm.” His voice was always so calm. Goddesses, he was a treasure.

“Pardon the interruption! This has never happened before.” He sighed. “I don’t suppose the kids have done some mischief to the lights up in the Sanctuary?”

Link laughed. “Maybe.”

He began to reach around in his bag for the lantern. Shad had no idea what to expect until it came on, and they were engulfed in a bubble of orange light. Another sound escaped his lips, and the handsome blonde smiled back at him. It seemed he had an answer for everything.

“Take my hand,” he said, offering his arm.

Shad looked down at it. He caught himself admiring the ruggedness of his gloves and the might of his muscles, despite the hero’s slim build. He swallowed nervously. “W-What ever for?” He nearly laughed. “You must think me helpless next to the others.”

It was a sore point. He knew he could never compete with Ashei or Rusl. 

“Anyone can trip over! It’s just until we get back to the ropes. I don’t want you falling or losing anything.”

… There was plenty to fall for but he gave in and obliged the younger man. He reached out and took his fingers in his own, tentatively at first. Link smiled and then enclosed his hand around his. His fingers were calloused and tough, and there was a little frayed part of his glove that scratched against his skin, but the certainty of his grip sent tingles up his arm and into his face. It was warm and steady, and he found himself gripping back.

“I’m sorry your explanation got messed up, Shad,” Link said on their way through the chamber. “I better not find Talo up there.”

“I must insist for a do-over once the torches come back,” he offered with a small laugh. “Farore forbid, I go falling in the dark again.”

“But you didn’t fall.” Link frowned. “I was here the whole time.”

They were at the ropes when he caught the smile on Shad’s face.

“After you,” he offered with a wink. “And I shall be here if you lose your footing.”


	2. Cuddling Somewhere

“Come on, Shad. It’s not gonna bite you.”

Shad frowned. He glanced down at the bubbling hot spring, clutching a towel from the village around his chest. It was some brilliant shade of blue, albeit blurry without his glasses. The breeze blew cold on his face and he flinched. If he could only get a little closer to the steam _without_ having to go all the way in… 

“Actually, old boy, it seems pleasant enough from the water’s edge.”

He sat himself onto the red earth, knuckles curled against the towel as he shuffled forward and dipped his legs into the spring. He didn’t need to look up to know that Link was staring at him. Perhaps even frowning.

“I dragged you all the way up here and you’re not coming in?”

Shad knew that tone. It was humorous, but disappointed enough to send him into a guilt trip.

“I… erm…”

“What’s wrong?” Link was definitely frowning now. “The water’s really nice, and you said you had writing cramps in your hand. This fixes everything!”

Shad lowered his gaze. He had never been one for stripping off and splashing into a wild bed of water. And yet, before him was the only person in Hyrule who seemed to share his interest in the Sky! How could he refuse such a request? “Nothing is wrong, per say,” he corrected, bracing himself. “Might you turn around for a moment, then?”

Link blushed. “Oh. Right.” 

There was a rippling sound as he faced away and turned his attention to the cliffs in the distance.

Shad swallowed. He unrolled the towel from his body and then sank himself waist-deep into the waters, eyes widening at the sensation. The heat was soothing and gentle, and not at all as uncomfortable as he imagined. He shuffled his feet along the bottom, unable to see through the wisps of vapour, until he snagged himself on a rock and splashed forwards.

Link whirled around and caught him in his arms. 

“Whoa, easy there.”

Shad laughed, and the sound of it ebbed into silence in the valley around them. 

Neither of them moved. He wondered how he must look now, with the water dripping from his hair. He caught the smile on Link’s face and did his best to smile back. Curse his need for glasses! 

“M-My thanks…” he stammered. 

He was steadied by those hands that hadn’t left his shoulders, and he found his own trailing upwards before they rested gently over the top. He wasn’t sure what had gotten into him. But Link didn’t withdraw. His fingers pressed against him tightly. 

A light came on inside.

“I’m here, Shad.”

He felt the air grow hotter, and the imprint of smooth skin against his chest. He didn’t have to be able to see Link to know how he _felt._ His body was sinewy, and sturdy, and incredibly strapping — especially around his midsection and upper arms, which tore away and then came around to meet at his back. He felt Link’s chin upon his shoulder as he held him there. Shad was frozen in the heat. It was almost scandalous, and yet there was nobody around to see them.

He chuckled and squeezed back in return.


	3. Watching a Game

“I need Epona.”

Link looked up to find Ilia standing over him in the tavern. Shad was seated cosily to his right, and his russett eyebrows shot up at once, intrigued. Her hands were on her hips and she was not at all happy. 

“You… what?”

“I need Epona,” she repeated, “for a race.”

Shad leaned forward and perched his elbows upon the table. It betrayed his usual manner but he was caught up in the moment. “Heavens, how exciting! Who might you be racing against?”

“Ashei. And I’m going to crush her.”

Shad went pale. 

Link coughed loudly. “Wait, _what?”_

“I have to beat her, Link!” she huffed, throwing daggers with her eyes. “I have to show her I’m not some pushover girl from the woods.”

Shad covered his mouth as he began to process the strangeness of this development. Certainly, he’d been excited for their friends to meet, but he wondered if they might’ve in fact unleashed a monster. Link’s expression darkened.

“Did she say something to you?” he growled.

“No.” Ilia sighed. “It’s just… her _face._ Look, are you going to support me or not?”

“Oh, Ilia my dear, I believe she wears that face all the time-” 

But something swept over Link as he stood up from the table and grinned. Shad blinked back his surprise. Was this Ordon pride? Or some pact of friendship dating back to their verdant youth? He could only guess. 

“I’ve got you,” Link said with a nod, “and so does Epona. Let’s show her what we’re made of!”

* * *

They were poised upon a starting line in the southern field; a mare of handsome chestnut brown with a flowing white mane, and a slate-grey mare with a black mane and tenebrous eyes. Their riders couldn’t look more different. Ilia cut a pale silhouette against Epona’s body, while Ashei looked to be a shadow, with gleams of red and silver. 

Shad sat some respectable distance away with Link under his arm. Castle Town loomed behind them on the horizon. 

“She really is taking this quite seriously, isn’t she?”

Link looked up at the scholar and smiled. “Of course she is! Ilia showed me how to ride. Everything I learned, I learned from her.”

“Is that so…” Shad mused. It occurred to him there was still so much to learn about the hero, even now. “She must be impeccable! Though, I hope she won’t take it too hard when Ashei wins.” 

“What?” Link laughed. “Oh, no. Ashei’s not winning this race.” 

Shad arched an eyebrow and shook his head. “I think you’ll find my friend rather unbeatable. Have you seen her mare in action? She raised that creature herself, in the mountains.”

“Epona’s better. You’ll see.” 

“Posturing are we, old boy?” He smirked. “Or are you a betting man?” 

Link smirked right back. He rather liked that smugness when it wasn’t directed at his clothes. “I’ll bet you a backrub later.” 

Shad pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose, concealing his reaction. 

“I believe you’re on.” 

There was a lot of shouting on the final leg of the race. The ground began to thunder as the horses’ hooves smashed into the earth and the grass flew behind them in chunks. Epona and Sigrun were almost neck-in-neck. Ilia looked ahead to catch Ashei leering over her shoulder. She scowled and then lowered her head, using her heels to urge Epona onward. Sweat dripped from her forehead. 

“Ilia!” Link shouted. “You can do this!” 

“I can hardly wait…” Shad said flirtatiously, rubbing his elbow against Link’s ribs. 

“You aren’t worried? Not even a little?”

“Should I be?” 

He turned his attention back to the racetrack to catch Epona edging in front of Sigrun, and Ashei clenching her teeth. Ilia threw a smile over her shoulder. Shad nearly fell off his seat at the sudden turn of events. 

“Now, hang _on_ just a second-” 

Epona’s white socks came down over the finish line — just one second ahead of her competitor — and Link whistled loudly in celebration. The horses barrelled on ahead until they slowed into a trot, and their jockeys began to chat and laugh. Shad groaned and held his head in his hands, loathing his overconfidence, while Link rubbed his shoulder and smiled. “Don’t take it too hard.” 

After a parting word, Ashei began to steer towards them, the usual roughness in her demeanour gone. 

“What the blazes happened?” Shad frowned at her. 

“Ilia beat me, fair and square.” She shrugged nonchalantly. And then she turned to address Link. “You’ve got an excellent horse. It’s good to know. She will keep you both safe.”


	4. On a Date

Link stared at his reflection. He looked remarkably serious, like one of the portrait paintings that hung in the castle. 

He’d never been on a real date before — despite Midna joking that their first one took place in a jail — and he hadn’t quite worked up the nerve to enquire about Shad’s history. He sighed and then tore his eyes away from the mirror. 

It all seemed easy enough for his date, who was intelligent, and well-dressed, and whose eyes drew him in while his words danced around him; bright and fickle, and prone to moving on while his mind was still caught on the last part. Goddesses! Somebody like that _had_ to have taken countless people out. 

He tapped the front of his boots against the carpet, and then straightened the coat he’d worn at their celebration ball one last time. It was royal blue with a gold trim; tailor-made, and perfectly matching his eyes and hair. 

“What do you think?” 

Ilia narrowed her eyes at him from the dresser. “You look fine! You could probably go out with Zelda dressed like that.”

“Probably?” he joked.

“I’m serious. You look like a hundred rupees — just like you always do, even after a bad day on the ranch.” 

“I was kinda hoping for more.” He caught the cushion she promptly threw at his head. “… Do you think Shad will mind? He’s seen it before but they’re the nicest clothes I own. I don’t wanna seem lazy…” 

“You’re overthinking this,” she chastised. 

He watched as she grabbed a comb from the nearby table and took to his hair. It was still messy from their attempts to tie it into a bun. 

“Now, before you walk out that door, you’re gonna leave all those insecurities behind. You’re gonna have fun instead of worrying about the stuff that doesn’t matter. Think you can handle that?” 

Link bit onto his lip and nodded, determined. 

“Oh, and you might wanna relax too.” Ilia giggled suddenly. “You look like you’re about to compete in a rodeo.”

* * *

There was no sign of Shad as Link moved down the tavern stairs. Good, he thought. This would buy him some time to recover. 

He let out a sigh and walked himself over to the table in the centre of the room. It was adorned with a red tablecloth, a set of candles, and a small bouquet of wildflowers; undoubtedly Ilia’s work. 

He had no idea what Telma had served him in a glass, but he accepted it with thanks and took it to his lips. Cold. And _bitter._ He winced. She looked at him and then he quickly smiled. Before the taste could leave his mouth, there was a sound from the door. Shad began to shuffle his way inside, past the sign which had been flipped to ‘closed.’ 

Link stood up — having flicked through an etiquette manual just hours ago — and waved him over. Was that too casual? Oh, Goddesses. This was the worst. But Shad seemed entirely unbothered. 

He soon joined him at the table, catching the warmth of the tavern lights over his dark waistcoat and satin ruffle blouse. It was extravagant, the colour of coffee cream. 

“Good to see you, old boy.” 

“Good to see _you.”_

They stared at each other for a moment longer before Link cringed and Shad chuckled. 

“I know, I know. It is a bit much,” the scholar confessed, bringing a hand to his forehead. “I ran into Ashei and she had the gall to ask where Zelda’s tea set had vanished-” 

“No, it’s… _us!”_ Link corrected, gesturing to his own set of clothes. “Both of us.” 

“Ah.”

Shad’s blush began to dim. “That is the coat you wore to the hero’s ball, yes?” he ventured. “I had secretly hoped to see it again. I thought you looked rather dashing. H-However, that is not to say I don’t enjoy your other ensembles! Why, I believe you could pull off almost any colour, and the intricacies of that Zora armour are-”

“Shad. It’s alright.” Link tilted his head in wonder. “Are you… nervous?”

He turned his gaze to the floor and smiled in defeat. “I-I suppose I am. You see… this is the first date I have ever been on.” 

“Your _first?”_ The hero blinked back at him wildly. “No way. I don’t believe it.” 

“It’s true.” 

They took to their seats before Shad continued. He found it difficult to admit, but there was no hiding the truth from someone so outgoing, and so naturally talented at befriending others. He rather wished some of that would rub off onto him. 

“I was never really one for socialising at the college. And it wasn’t until I founded the Resistance with Telma and the others, that I began to network beyond my… fixations. Most people laughed at me, you see. They thought me eccentric.” 

“Goddesses, Shad.” Link was so relieved he wanted to laugh, until he remembered the delicate state his date was in. He cleared his throat. “I was so nervous about tonight. I thought you’d done this a hundred times, living in the city and everything, and I was just… You know there’s like two people my age back home, right? It’s my first date too.” 

“Truly?”

“Yes.” 

“And _I_ managed to unsettle _you?”_

_“Yes!”_

Shad broke into a smile and Link could do nothing but return it. The room was lighter by the time Telma arrived with their meals. 

“Well then, old boy… Why don’t we begin with you telling me more of your village? I want to know everything by the time we visit.”


	5. Kissing

It happened loudly, in the dark, after an evening of long stares and awkward laughter. He chewed on some mint leaves after their last drink, determined to make his move once they got outside… before Shad got stuck talking again. He _always_ did that. Admittedly, it was his fault most of the time. 

He could hardly wait by the time they were alone. 

He took his wrist and the scholar blinked back at him, shaken. He began to wonder if now was the right time, if perhaps they should discuss it; until Shad pulled him closer and they crashed against the wall, his hands tight against his shoulders. He breathed something against his lips at first. His words were cajoling and wanting, and smooth like wine. 

Yes, he whispered back. He wanted this, too. 

He pressed his lips against the scholar, delighting in their warmth and tenderness, before he found the courage to move them. The cologne on his neck was a pleasant surprise. It altered the smell and taste of him, folding sweetness and spice into the mix. Shad synchronised his movements in return. But then, he began to test the waters. There were flickers of heat and sweeps of movement from his lips and the tip of his tongue, until he was left gasping. He tilted his head back for Link to take control.

“Are you sure?”

_“Yes. Please, Link.”_

His fingers were lost in that auburn hair, knotting and pulling upon it as his hot breath flashed against his neck. 

“Bite me,” Shad begged, betraying his usual manner. 

Link smirked. He knew he would do anything to hear that voice again.

He began to tease him. He kissed the area, gently first, before his tongue swept over the skin and drew circles of pleasure against it. Shad’s pulse began to burst against his lips. He couldn’t take it any longer and pulled on the fabric around his shoulders, scrunching it between his fingers and moaning, delicately. He felt like an animal for doing this in some back alley of Castle Town, and the thought of it turned him wild. So, _this_ was what he'd been missing out on. No wonder people wrote about it at length. 

Link split into a grin. He finally obliged, and began to nip and rake his teeth against Shad's neck, seeking out the softest parts. Goddesses, he was delicious. And Shad wanted nothing more than to feel those jaws around him. He needed it, now.

“M-My apartment…” he gasped between waves of delirium. 


	6. Wearing Each Other's Clothes

Link looked stunning in his clothes, and he hated him for it. 

They were like a disguise that suited him far too well. Perhaps it was the fact that he didn’t own anything like them, which gave him that extra edge. Or the fact that they clashed perfectly against that untidy blonde hair, and those stark blue eyes, and his nimble manner of walking; as though the palace floor itself had been rigged with traps.

His shirts were always a little tight around the biceps, and he held his breath everytime Link stretched or grabbed the back of his neck in them. His thighs were another point of concern. There was plenty of room for them in his work clothes, but his dress pants were another matter entirely. He was banned from wearing them again after he ripped the first pair.

To make matters worse, he suited almost every colour. White blouses, cream ruffles, gold and tawny vests, black jackets and red ribbon ties, purple and navy waistcoats, argyle and checkered socks; he suited _everything!_

Telma and Ilia confirmed his frustrations when Link wore one of his suits and they showered him in compliments, begging him to try on more of his clothes. Even Ashei had looked down at him, and then up again, and said, ‘Nice.’ 

Had _she_ ever called _him_ nice? The nerve.

… He never let on that it bothered him. Not that it did. He was extremely unbothered by Link’s effortless looks. But he had to wonder if this was the universe laughing at him for having a cheeky dig at the hero’s tunic. It hung over a nearby chair, taunting him even now from across the room. Meanwhile, Link was shirtless, and snoring quietly to his left. 

This was his chance.

He lifted the sheets, snatched his glasses, and then crept to the sunlit corner where the tunic lay. He peeled it away from the chair, along with the white undershirt, leaving behind the noisy layer of chainmail. The buckles jingled as he moved it — and he froze — only to watch as Link rolled over and faced the wall, still fast asleep. 

He exhaled slowly. 

He pulled the first layer over his red hair and it seemed to come down rather snugly. Next were the tights. Goddesses, they felt strange! No wonder Link couldn’t sit still. Then came the leaf-green green tunic, which was surprisingly tight in the chest, but loose on him everywhere else. Clearly it was made to be _functional_ above all else, yet it seemed to fit Link perfectly well, and allow for the freedom of movement he needed. He wondered how he might go with it if he ran, or climbed some great height — or used that insanely dangerous spring-device he used to shoot himself onto roofs and grates! 

Ah. And lastly, there was the hat. He stretched it on over his head, delighting in the familiar scent of Link’s hair, before he cast a tentative look into the floor-length mirror. He cleared his throat as quietly as he could, and then fastened the buckles at his midsection and shoulder. 

Oh dear. Apart from the pleasant contrast between his red hair and those soft green shoulders, it looked ridiculous. He removed the hat and stared again, harder, adjusting his glasses. No. That was even worse. An outfit like this could only work on somebody who was fierce enough to carry it — and innocent enough to complement it. There was no middle-ground. He was far too bookish to pull it off. 

A loud knock on the door sent a jolt down his spine.

“Link! Shad! Breakfast’s ready!” Ilia called through the tavern wall. 

Link sat up mid-snore, and then felt around on the bed, noticing a gap where Shad once lay. He frowned and then opened his eyes. 

Shad blinked back at him, holding the shoulder strap over his head. “… Good morning, old boy.” 

_“… Ilia, come in and look at this!”_ he shouted. 

The door flew open and she sprinted into the room before he could utter a sound of protest.

“What is it, Link?! Wha… Oh my gosh!” 

Shad went red in the face while the Ordonians bent over and began to laugh. Link hadn’t even taken a step out of bed yet — he looked far more ridiculous lying there in his shorts! Even so, he couldn’t find it in himself to be mad. Not after he’d been caught red-handed in a sacred garb conjured by the Light spirits. He sighed. 

“Shad, you look adorable!” Ilia giggled, wiping tears away between bouts of laughter. 

“I-It’s not… funny.”

Link grinned from across the room. “Aww, you should’ve tried on the mail.”

Ashei peeked into the room from around the corner. “What’s this commotion about?” she scoffed. But then her expression shifted from mild annoyance to total disbelief. Shad blushed at them all, angrily, before she smiled. 

“I knew you were serious about wanting that tunic,” she said smugly. 

“Don’t say it-”

“ _Nice.”_


	7. Cosplaying

It had been a pleasant morning walk, until they reached the park in the western districts. Shad never paid much mind to the entertainers who passed through this area, and he thought it strange that Link gripped his arm a little tighter as they set forth. Here, the city skyline had been cast aside by a tent; a mountainous mass of blue canvas and red carpet, featuring some odious character over the top of them, and the words ‘STAR Game’ alongside. 

Shad raised an eyebrow, noticing the way Link’s feet dragged upon his right. “Something the matter, old boy?”

“… It’s fine,” he said, grabbing the back of his neck. Thankfully, it was early, and there was still no sign of anyone apart from the puppy bumbling around in the grass. He paused a moment longer to scan his surroundings, and then let out a sigh of relief. “Come on, let’s get going-” 

They only managed a couple more steps before Link yanked Shad sideways into the bushes, and there was a tangle of sticks and leaves in his hair. 

_“I say-”_

“Shhhhh.” 

Shad continued to squirm, and struggle, and glare, but Link covered his mouth before he could do anything else to give their position away. He then pointed to a group of pedestrians in the distance. The scholar held his breath, on high alert for whatever it was that was frightening the gods out of Link. 

“See that?” Link whispered. 

He wasn’t entirely sure who or _what_ he was looking at, until they continued down the road into his field of vision. It was… a group of girls? Three, exactly. They looked to be no older than their teenage years, each wearing brightly coloured robes, with vivid hairstyles in red, green, and purple. Shad threw a sideways glance at Link. 

“Are you _sure_ you’ve seen him, Hannah?” one of them asked. “It’s been ages since he’s come by this part of town.”

“I’m sure,” Hannah replied. “He took the west road from the square! He should be here any second now!” 

“Maybe he’s gone to the castle?” 

“He’s been up there a lot lately, but Zelda’s still single, so there’s nothing to worry about!” she squeaked excitedly. “We have a chance!” 

“You only gave me two minutes to get ready!” 

“We had no time, Misha!”

Link hid his face in his hands, suddenly fearing that the bushes were not enough to save him. And Shad retracted his glance. So, apparently the old boy had some sort of fanclub in these parts. It shouldn’t have been surprising, given the fact that their exploits had recently been made public — yet he couldn’t recall them visiting this park since it happened. Did he perhaps… have some prior history here? 

A new voice rang out into the square. “Oh, ladieeeees~” 

The three girls’ backs were turned as the extravagant man on all the promotional posters, no less, marched outside, and raised his hands in the air. “I, your humble emcee, Purlo, bid you all a most magnificent morning! We have _plenty_ on show at the STAR Game today! Indeed, it would be a shame to miss it without paying the mere entrance fee of five rupees-”

 _“Any_ second now,” Hannah assured them. 

“… That’s right, the mere entrance fee of… three rupees! For a limited time only!” 

The one called Misha began to fuss with her hair. “Oh no, I dropped a pin!” she moaned.

Purlo seethed red and crossed his arms. He began muttering to himself, and the savage look in his eyes sent Shad cold. “Why… we will even _cover_ your entry, if you bring a friend!” he continued on. “And I shall be hosting a segment without my cloak! For our cages will grow _most dangerous when we set them alight!”_

He tore the garment away and let it fly into the wind — offering a preview of his chest and abs for all to see. Shad gasped and shielded his eyes. Goddesses, that man had no shame. 

The girl with green hair turned slowly to face him, and frowned. “Hey, uh… Purlo or whatever, do you think you could keep it down for a couple of minutes?” she asked. “We’re trying to meet up with a friend and it’s super distracting.”

Link could almost pick the moment the fire went out in that man. Purlo's eyes shot wide as he stood there, head hanging, in broken silence. He didn’t even bat an eye when the puppy nabbed his cloak and began to race around the tree with it, yapping with delight as its orange sleeves fluttered in the breeze.

“That’s _it,”_ Link whispered to himself. “I’ve got an idea. Shad, do you think you could cause a distraction?” 

“Erm, pardon?” Shad asked, lowering his hands from his eyes. He dared not look ahead.

“I need you to get up and talk to those girls for a _minute._ They shouldn’t bother you, you look nothing like me.”

Shad blushed furiously. “You would ask that I emerge from these bushes and approach a group of young ladies in the street?”

“Uh… good point.” 

“… No matter. I have a better idea at hand.”

Shad rose up at once, finding that neither the girls nor the entertainer were fussed about his presence. He coughed, and dusted himself off, and then took to the road again, taking care not to draw their attention too much as he passed. Goddesses, this was embarrassing. But it wasn’t in Link’s usual nature to be anxious, and he could not leave the man now in his hour of need. He walked all the way over to the north entrance before he pointed to the adjoining street, and shouted, “Great heavens! It is the Hero of Light!” 

The girls _shrieked._

And Purlo went blue in the face. But he quickly gathered himself and slammed a fist into his hand. “That’s _it._ I need him back for my show!” he snarled. “I will have him. Oh yes, I’ll make him an offer he can’t refuse. And then everything will be as it was…”

Shad was all but pushed aside as they came running down the street — all four of them — in pursuit of the fabled hero. 

When the coast was clear, his eyes darted about the bushes in search of Link. His heart leapt up into his throat. For a split second he feared it might be Purlo again, standing on the road with the puppy in his arms, its tongue lolling about as it puffed. But on second sight, he knew it to be Link with that wicked green cloak drawn over most of his face. His jawline was the giveaway. 

“Well, what do you think?” He smiled.

“What in the blazes are you doing, old boy?” 

“This’ll keep me safe,” Link bargained, “at least until we finish our walk.” He released the puppy and bit his lip, expecting Shad to be a _little_ cross with him, though he’d hoped he understood the abject terror of his situation. It was not the first time he had been followed in these streets, nor would it be the last. 

Shad looked back at him and frowned. 

“We should return it later,” he acquiesced, “perhaps… through the _mail,_ yes? And it’s a little crooked around the shoulders. Here, allow me.” He pinched around Link’s sides and then tugged on the hoops at the front of his cloak. There was still a peek of the hero’s tunic around his legs but it blended in rather seamlessly with the hood.

“There’s just one other problem now.”

“What’s that?”

“It looks as though I might be on a date with that terrible man.”

Link smirked, though he could barely see it. “He’s popular for a reason. Did you see those muscles of his?”

Shad scoffed quietly. “Please.”


	8. Shopping

Link had never been one for shopping. It was a necessity, a utilitarian thing that needed to be done if he planned on making it out of the desert alive. Did he have arrows? Yes. Potions? Yes. Lantern oil? … Eh, he had the rupees to spare. No purchase would ever compare with his first batch of bomb arrows, and even then the novelty of them had long worn off.

It wasn’t until he started hitting the southern markets with Shad, that he realised there was far more to shopping than he might’ve ever guessed. The scholar knew _just_ when to arrive if he wanted those first, crispy loaves of bread. He also knew that the apple stall _across_ the street from Telma’s had a far superior supplier. He’d even gotten stuck talking to Ilia for what felt like an eternity about ‘flower language’ one afternoon, while Link zoned out and started petting the cats, instead.

“Get him to take you to the armourer,” Ashei advised him once. “I used to pay extra for repairs, and these hold up for a bit longer.”

He had to wonder how they’d managed so well without these options in Ordon. Admittedly, they had to source most of their own stock. They’d churned their own butter and cheese, harvested their own crops, caught their own fish — and if one wanted honey, they’d better be ready to shoot it down and run for the river. Shad seemed to know a great deal about his hometown for this reason. Rusl had filled in most of the gaps, long before they’d met, but apparently Ordonain products were something of a speciality in these parts. 

He’d always said that their countries should merge; that Hyrule was sorely lacking in farmland and that Ordon would benefit from the extra funding. 

But politics aside, it was shopping day. And that meant getting there _before_ opening time. He expected Shad to be ready by the time he came out of the shower, only to find him stuck in bed with bloodshot eyes and purple shadows beneath them. He covered his mouth and then sneezed.

 _“I’bmh terribly sorry,”_ he mumbled. _“It appears I’ve picked up somebthing awful.”_

“… Don’t worry about it.” Link smiled. “I’ll be back soon.”

Before long, he was queued up in the line with a basket upon his arm. 

He picked a potato from one of the stalls and squeezed it, gently, remembering the first time he'd done this and it broke apart in his hands. He added a couple to the basket and then handed the rupees over. Next, he inspected the leeks, and moved over to the other stall where they appeared to be far less wilted. His eye was soon caught by the cloves of garlic and onion hanging from the beams. He quickly paid for those, too. To finish the list, he reached for a block of rich Ordonian butter, which was sealed in wax paper with goat horns printed over the top.

He smiled, and wondered how Fado might’ve been coping on the ranch. Goddess knows, he wasn’t around to catch the runaway goats anymore. 

He left the markets with a second-rate baguette — having missed the window in which Shad liked to grab them — and made his way back to the apartment. He navigated the kitchen as quietly as he could; chopping, and stirring, and inhaling the vapours from the saucepan, before he separated a spoonful and brought it to his lips. There was a momentary pause. And then, smooth, creamy bliss. 

He crept upstairs and let himself into the room where Shad waited; slumped against the headboard with his pillows stuffed beneath him, struggling his way through a book. He lowered it and regarded Link with a hopeful glance. 

“Here, you should eat this,” he said, placing the soup and bread onto the bedside table. “It’ll make you feel better.” 

_“L-Link, old boy, you went to all of this trouble for hme?”_

“It’s not the bread you usually like,” Link admitted with a cringe. “And I haven’t made this in a while, it’s probably nowhere near the quality you’re used to-”

_“Ordonian butter…”_

He watched as Shad took a spoonful to his lips, and then lowered it with a smile. 

_“I should like this… vbery much. Thank you, old boy.”_


	9. Hanging Out With Friends

Their evening had been filled with games, and cards, and drinks; and plenty of opportunity to solidify their friendship! Or so Link hoped. His eyes had flitted back and forth between them all night, betraying his uncertainty of where they stood. Shad had noticed the odd comment or two between them, and reasoned that if he and Link could grow from their initial meeting, then so could _they._ Unfortunately, they were in the middle of a round of darts when the third and final argument erupted. 

Ilia sprang forward and threw the last of her set at the board, landing one next to Ashei’s shot by a hair's breadth. “Yes!” she cheered. She didn’t even _look_ at Link as she gave him the double high-five. Her eyes had been fixed on her the entire time. Ashei snarled and then finally stood up.

“Alright,” she scowled. “Cut it out.”

“Cut what out?”

“Stop trying to compete with me! At everything!” she snapped. “It’s getting old, yeah?” 

… And it had started. Shad winced and brought a hand to his forehead. Already, he was preparing the talk he’d be having with her in his head. This was Link’s dearest friend! She deserved respect!

“You’re _so_ conceited,” Ilia argued back. “You think I’m going out of my way to best you? It’s not my fault you went all in during cards.”

Ashei rolled her eyes. “All you’ve gotta do is bat those pretty little eyes and _anyone_ would believe you’ve got a bad hand,” she derided. “Wish I could get away with that.” 

“You’re right. You’re just so perfect, Ashei. You don’t need to stoop down to my level by acting _girly-”_

“Whoa, whoa… hold up, guys!” Link shot up from his chair and immediately wedged himself in between them. The scholar gave a sigh as he faced the smouldering remains of their outing. So much for his warning against their direct involvement!

Link turned to face Ashei. “You need to leave Ilia alone,” he said evenly. 

She snorted. “Of course you’d take her side.”

“And, you! Don’t be mean towards Ashei,” he added, turning himself around to face Ilia.

“You think _I’m_ being mean to her?” she shot back, indignant.

“You _know_ you are.”

“Well, neither of you have to worry about that anymore,” Ashei interrupted. She threw one final, scathing glare at the group as she uncrossed her arms. “I’m leaving.” 

“Oh no, Ashei! Do wait a moment-” 

Shad had jumped out of his seat, feeling that the time for neutrality was well and truly over, but before he could reach out to stop her the tavern door slammed shut. They suddenly were down a party member. Link and Ilia stared back at him, dumbfounded. Certainly, neither of them had seen that coming.

“My apologies.” He bowed. “I shall return as soon as possible.”

“Go on.” Link smiled at him with a parting nod. “We’ll be here.”

* * *

“You! Stop right there this instant!” Shad called down the streets. Gods, she was a fast walker.

“I’m not listening, Shad,” she responded icily over her shoulder. “You’re just gonna give me some long-winded rant and tell me to apologise, yeah?”

He stopped. “… Erm, I was,” he admitted, “until I realised how upset you sounded.”

She stopped too. “Upset?” She blinked once. 

“It’s faint, but I can hear it. What’s the matter? You can tell me.” 

He feared he might’ve ruined his chance to fix things until Ashei turned herself around and marched right up to him. She’d brought it down a couple of notches but her eyes were still furious. “… This stupid rivalry,” she growled. “It’s so stupid. And pointless. I actually like Ilia, you know? Being around her is fun. I just wish she’d realise that and stop trying to fight me all the time. It’s exhausting. Emotionally.”

Shad frowned. “Does she know that?”

“Ugh. I’m not good with… you know.”

“I know.” He smiled. “And I shall help you. Let’s go back together, yes? Perhaps we can still salvage this evening.”

She didn’t say yes, though she went along with him willingly as they made their way back to the bar. “You’re just mad I ruined your time with Link,” she said with a smirk. 

“I am a _little_ mad,” he admitted with a laugh. “But you’re forgiven.”

* * *

“I didn’t mean to wreck everything.” Ilia sighed as she looked down to the floor. She had calmed down significantly since the others took off, and Link had noticed it too. 

“You didn’t,” he assured, placing his hand on her shoulder. 

“No, I did. Ashei was right. I’ve been trying to beat her.”

“Oh.” Link frowned suddenly. He was _not_ expecting that answer. “Um, why?”

“Because… because! Look at her! She’s so proficient at everything. I just wanted her to notice me… cause I probably seem so small in comparison. I thought maybe she’d like me if she respected me.”

Link shook his head. “You don’t need to prove anything to anyone! That’s _my_ job. Just be yourself, you’re doing way better than I did.”

She smiled a little and then withdrew her gaze again. “I really should apologise. I said some awful things. You know I can get carried away, but she doesn’t.” He knew better than to agree with her.

Not a moment later, the door opened.

“Hey,” Ashei said from the entrance. They looked up at her in unison. “Want to talk outside?”

Ilia nodded and made her way over to the warrior. 

“Shall I attend as well?” Shad offered dutifully, but Ashei shook her head and waved him away. 

The door soon shut behind the two girls, leaving the hero and scholar behind. They sat together on one of the sofas, while Link stared ahead at the dartboard and Shad reshuffled the cards. He placed them back onto the table and then finally looked to his partner, exhausted. The disastrous tone of the evening sent Link into a wave of laughter. Shad had done his best to maintain his composure but he was starting to lose the battle. 

“I’m sorry, Shad,” he said. “It’s not funny. It’s just…”

“I know, old boy. Not exactly what we had in mind.”

“Do you think they’ll be alright?” 

Shad chuckled. “We shall have to wait and see. I must say, you did a better job of keeping the peace than I anticipated.”

Link chose to take that as a compliment. “Nah, I probably made things worse,” he said with a frown. “I should’ve followed your example and stayed out of it til we were alone.” 

Shad squeezed his leg affectionately, before Link’s head migrated onto his shoulder. They held each other in that window of quiet, and watched the flames dance in the corner, until the door opened once again and two sets of footsteps walked into the tavern. Link whipped his head around and he grinned at them both. “You made it!” 

Ilia beamed right back at him, while Ashei stood to her left… concealing the lower half of her face with an armoured hand. She was red, and silent. Shad blinked, and then gasped, and began to do some sort of hand charades in her direction. She shook her head vehemently. 

“So!” Ilia gushed excitedly. “Back to the game?”


	10. With Animal Ears

He shuffled on the spot and adjusted his gloves. He was unsure if he was capable of weathering Shad’s gaze _just_ yet. The silence did little to reassure him. Of course, it was far more preferable to the sound of screaming or a slammed door. He maintained his focus on the ground as he said, “That’s it. That’s my secret.” 

“I… see.” 

His tone wasn’t especially horrified. Thank the Goddesses for that. 

“I just don’t want there to be any secrets between us. A lot happened in the war — too much to share in one day — but this… is the start.”

Slowly, he forced himself to look up. 

At first, Shad’s expression alarmed him. His adrenaline surged as his heart began to thump in his ears. He swallowed, faintly aware of the thorny feeling growing in his stomach, and then pulled his lips up into a smile. Shad had brought his own hand to his lips. But on second sight, he didn’t seem to be _afraid._ Perhaps the better word was… perplexed. His eyes were unblinking but his aura was still, and soundless, the very opposite of his own. 

“M-My apologies,” he stammered. “Might you… indulge my curiosity with a couple of questions?”

“Go right ahead.”

“Am I to believe that you’re a wolf who has adopted the persona of a human? Or are you a person who can alter their shape into a wolf?”

“The second one!” Link protested. “I… think. There’s an old magic in me. Something out of my control. But _I’m_ human, Shad. I’ve lived as a human my whole life! The wolf only came out of me recently.”

Shad fell quiet again for a long moment. He drummed his fingers along the table as he spoke. “There were frightful rumours of a wolf running about the town some months ago. There was no report of an attack. However, we presumed it was connected to all of the other terrible things happening in Hyrule.”

“It was.” Link cringed. “In a way. The wolf was like a cloak, a protection against the bad magic pouring into our realm. I only used it to destroy evil… I’d never use it to harm anyone.”

“Ah. So you retained full control of it?”

“Yeah.” He nodded. “Mostly. There were a couple of… _instincts_ that took over. But nobody got hurt, just the gardens I ruined with holes.”

“Not even prey animals?” Shad immediately blushed, unsure if it had been rude of him to ask.

Link shook his head, horrified. “Never! I never hurt any animals — only listened to them. Plus there were tonnes of keese and bokoblins for me to eat on the road.”

The scholar chuckled for the first time since he’d seen the wolf. “I suppose it was a great stroke of luck we didn’t send Rusl or Ashei after you.”

“Uh, yeah. _Thank you_ for not doing that.” He laughed. And then he drew a deep breath, and sat down next to Shad, thanking the Goddesses when he didn’t recoil. “Anything else you wanna ask while we’re, um… here?” 

“Shall I take a solemn oath of secrecy?” Shad inquired.

“No need. But let’s keep it between us. The only person who knows is Zelda, and I don’t think she’d be happy with me telling anyone, let alone showing them in their house.” 

Shad nodded. “Easy enough, old boy. And if I might ask — that strange crystal you have in your hand-”

 _“Don't touch it.”_

His tone was serious, and perhaps a little too severe, as it sent Shad flinching. Link cleared his throat, realising his error, and tried again. “Sorry, Shad… it’s just _really_ dangerous. If anyone touches it, it could poison them. I keep it wrapped in my pocket at all times.” He paused. “I really should’ve sent it back… but it’s a memento. A reminder of the bigger picture. If I die, it needs to be surrendered to Zelda. Only she can destroy it.”

Shad placed a hand on his knee and turned to face him in full, snatching his attention away from the crystal. “It is a burden of yours, old boy,” he said softly. “And I shall do my best to help you carry it.”

Link smiled. He could feel the sting of emotion in his eyes, even though he promised himself he wouldn’t cry today. “Thanks, Shad.”

“Thank you, Link _…_ for placing your trust in me.” He nodded again. “I will do my utmost to prove myself worthy.” 

The scholar leaned forward, hovering carefully over the crystal, before their lips met in a kiss. It was a small breath of a gesture — for Link held a weapon from another world in the palm of his hand — but he returned it gently, eager to shed some of the stress away. His free hand gripped around Shad’s shoulder as they released each other. A small smile tugged on the corner of his mouth.

“Do you wanna see something cool?”

“Oh? Be my guest.” Shad stared back at him, wondering what the blazes he might be in for. 

Link’s smile split into a devious grin — not unlike his old friend — before he shuffled backwards for safety. He tied the rope that held the crystal around his neck, and tucked it down beneath his shirt, where it glanced against his chest. The smallest touch was all it took. 

The room grew cold, and then the shadows around him pulled inwards, sculpting themselves into new forms that took anchor at his head and back. The darkness glitched and scattered away before Shad’s eyes, and left in their wake a set of lupine ears and a thick grey tail. He muffled the sound that escaped his lips, though it was a futile gesture. Link’s ears pricked forwards. 

“Did I scare you?”

“I’m quite alright...!” Shad insisted, paler than before. “It’s just a bit of a _surprise_ to see it halfway done like that.” 

He looked again, wondering if he might’ve imagined the intense blue that flooded Link’s eyes. It seemed silly to let his nerves get the better of him now, especially when he’d stood before him, fully transformed, not a moment ago. His shaking hand outstretched in the air between them. “Erm, m-may I?” 

“Oh.” Link smiled and lowered his head. His teeth had grown sharp too, but that was a detail Shad definitely didn’t need to know about. “Yeah, go ahead.” He let out a whine as Shad’s soft, human hands brushed against his ears. They were every bit as velvety as he’d anticipated. 

“Is it… dangerous to be touching you in this form?” he murmured. 

“Not really. The crystal’s under three layers of clothes.” 

“Hmm.” 

Link heard the spike in Shad’s heartbeat as he blushed again. Oh, he would remember this later.


	11. Wearing Kigurumis

Shad adjusted his glasses as his eyes combed the display. He’d never seen anything like these in Castle Town. He then watched, as Link touched the fabric and tilted his head, regarding them with an almost childlike surprise. Clearly this was not an Ordonian garb. In fact, there could be no doubt about it now — he was witnessing the birth of a new fashion movement. 

He cleared his throat. “Forgive me, my dear, but… what exactly _are_ they?” 

“They’re like a little cape with animal ears,” Ilia swooned. 

He’d recognised the motif throughout her collection; fox ears, winged arms, ram horns, and squirrel tails. 

“They’re soft,” Link murmured, glowing with approval. 

“Oh yes, they’re made to feel like a blanket inside! They’ll keep you warm in winter.” 

“And you made all of these yourself?”

“Of course!” Ilia beamed. “I thought they might be good for children, but I used adult measurements for my first round of prototypes.”

Link smiled. “That’s amazing! What, uh… inspired you?”

Ilia hummed for a moment, then shrugged. “I wanted to try making something functional _and_ cute. There’s an endless amount of designs! I could make different animals for different people. And there’s a mountain of spare cloth in town.” She then stopped and turned to Shad. “This one’s for you.”

He immediately flushed pink. “Oh, erm… please tell me you didn’t go to any trouble-”

“I had _way_ too much white sitting around, so here you go. You’re welcome.”

A heavy bundle of downy fabric was pressed into his hands before he could even refuse it. He unfolded it carefully, blinking as he did so, and then shook it out for all the room to see. Link grew still and bit onto his lip. Gods, it was perfect. _So_ perfect that he was trying desperately not to laugh.

“W-Why, it’s an owl.” 

“Yep!” 

“Erm… thank you,” Shad stammered. “It’s… rather a statement piece, isn’t it! Of course, I shall be using it on those cold winter nights at my desk.” Oh, but he couldn’t let anyone see him in this! It was skillfully crafted, and she’d even nailed the creature’s brilliant yellow eyes and soft felt beak, but he was still a man! He had his pride to consider. “I see them being quite popular with the kids in town. In fact, if you ever wish to patent the idea, I believe I could help you with tha-”

“You should put it on!” Link urged him, failing to stifle his amusement. 

“You’re not getting out of this, either,” Ilia warned, before she snatched another bundle from her workstation and thumped it against his chest. She smiled and he froze. “There. Now you can match each other!”

“That’s right, old boy.” Shad smirked. “Let us wear these now, _together.”_

“U-Uh… sure.” Link forced himself into a grin. “What’d you make me?” He unfurled the garment at once, revealing a grey coat and two large, pointed ears at the top. No. It _couldn’t_ be. 

“Remember that wolf everyone keeps talking about back home?” Ilia prompted. Link and Shad’s eyes met, uncomfortably. “Well, they say he disappeared once you brought everyone back. So I thought… this might be a funny way to commemorate that.” 

“Ahaha… thanks, Ilia.” 

Shad threw another haughty look his way, before he slipped his arms into the garb and then flattened his red hair beneath the hood. It was warm. And surprisingly comfortable. In fact, he couldn’t stop _touching_ the fabric! Is this why Ashei was so intent on wearing that beastly getup of hers? Goddesses, what had he been missing out on all these years? 

He spun, and then turned and admired Link in his own coat. The hero winked back at him. 

“You’re correct, my dear.” He smiled. “It is functional. And cute.” 


	12. Making Out

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A continuation of Chapter 5. Bumped it up to an M rating, no naughty words.

The door flung open and they crashed inside, falling into a tangle of limbs upon the wall behind it. There was little regard for the coat rack that went toppling over. Or for the door itself, which slammed shut with a kick, shattering any notion of their activities being stealthy. There was a devious glint in Link’s half-closed eyes. Shad took advantage of the moment to catch this breath, though that too would be in vain.

“We made it here,” Link growled in his ears. “You were difficult along the way…” 

He buried himself in Shad’s neck before he could respond, kissing, and nipping, and sucking lightly against his most sensitive areas. He cried out and then muffled the sound, swallowing painfully hard. He realised that there was nothing to stop them now. In fact, he could be as loud as he wanted. 

He blushed. “I do l-like it… a little rough.” 

Link’s smile flashed against his skin as he pulled back, though Shad still clung to him tightly. He brought his fingers beneath his chin and lifted. The scholar’s gaze quivered back at him as he obeyed. Already, there were dark patches running all the way up the side of his neck. The rawness of them still lingered within his mouth. “Am I going too hard on you?” he murmured, inspecting his work. 

“No…” Shad breathed. “P… Please, Link. Keep going.” 

Slowly, he tilted his face back down. 

The last thing Shad expected to feel next was that ravenous mouth, turned soft, against his lips. Their warmth danced upon him and he returned the favour eagerly, whimpering as Link took his bottom lip into his teeth, and then pressed his body against his own. His hips jerked. He suddenly realised that he could feel him through his clothes. Oh gods, _yes._

“I can be nice, too,” Link breathed back. 

There was a dizzying wave of pleasure as the kiss continued, as light as ever, above the rigidness of their bodies. Shad’s hands drifted down and he began to push, and knuckle, and knead his fingers against Link’s muscles between gasps of breath. He groaned quietly. But he refused to be the first to cave in. Those nimble hands could work him into a stupor if he let them, and he knew it. 

“A-Ahh!”

“Oh?” Shad remarked, amused. “I didn’t think you were the type to crumble under the slightest touch.” Link met his eyes and he grew still. 

His hands came down to rest upon his sternum, measuring his heartbeat as he kissed him, and then pushed against his body once more. It was a heavy, precise gesture. And then, he did it again. And again. A thrill ran up Shad’s spine as he realised what he was doing. His breathing turned laboured and a blush spread over his face. He began to rock his hips in return — grinding and panting and pleading, shamelessly. Link’s breath erupted in jagged spurts against his chest. Shad sighed, feeling the pleasure spill out into tears at the corners of his eyes. It was pure ecstasy. 

“Th… There’s quite an awful chafe… between us,” Shad babbled incoherently. “Perhaps… if you were to carry me over to my bed-”

He was dragged away from the wall in a single, sweeping movement.


	13. Eating Ice Cream

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Officially back to work, so these will come as they're ready. I'll do my best to keep it daily. :)

Link stared at the cage with a look of utter horror. He stepped in front of Shad, as though to shield him, and then drew his sword in the marketplace. This elicited some gasps from the surrounding customers. Not _only_ because this was the Hero of Light.

“Good heavens, what are you doing, old boy?” 

“Get back, Shad!” he warned. “It’s not safe!”

The vendor threw a withering look his way. “Sir, I must ask you to sheathe your sword at once! These were rather difficult to procure!” 

“You had better listen to him,” Shad advised. “We wouldn’t want to cause a ruckus, would we? I apologise for interfering with your erm… business, sir.”

“But… _the keese.”_ Link gestured to the terrible creatures that were chittering and flapping around behind the bars with a look of disgust. Why anybody would bring those into the marketplace was beyond him. “They’re not ordinary keese. They’re _ice keese._ And they can freeze you or shatter your bones, if you’re not careful.”

“They don’t even have to touch you.” Shad and Link looked up to see Ashei standing behind them with her arms folded, and a wry smirk on her face. “Just getting into proximity can leave you with frostbite. But his gloves are made from arctic leather. I know, ‘cause I used to craft them.”

“Ah. Greetings, Ashei,” Shad bid her, slightly perturbed. “What brings you to the market?” 

She ignored him and raised her hand to catch the vendor’s attention. He smiled at her… and then quickly frowned at Link, who hadn’t budged from Shad’s side. The hero continued to watch the monsters like a cat poised in front of a fish bowl — his sword hand twitching and ready to go.

Ashei sighed and handed over her rupees. “Wildberry, please. And for these uncultured idiots… a coffee and honey.” 

“I bet your _pardon?”_ Shad huffed. “Who are you calling uncultured?”

“You,” she said, bluntly. 

Link watched in bewilderment as the vendor fetched a cup and some fancy mixtures from beneath the counter; something that looked like milk, dashed with sugar, whipped together with a stirring implement. He tapped against the side of the cage and the keese fluttered down — chattering as they gathered into a group. The air around them grew cold. _So_ _cold,_ that the dessert was beginning to solidify. The finishing touches were dashes of fruit, and honey, and a syrup that carried the nearby whiff of a cafe. 

“What is this?” Link frowned. Admittedly, he’d never pictured himself consuming anything brought about by cursed magic.

“Oh-! Now wait a second!” Shad interrupted. “I’ve heard of this!” 

“Have you?” Ashei shook her head wearily. “It’s a delicacy from home. Only, we used to make it from raw snow. Here. You’ll thank me later.” Their anxious eyes followed her over to a quiet corner in the shade, where she began chipping into the cream with a spoon. It was difficult to read her face once it left her lips, but she gave a sigh. And then… smiled? Goddesses, did that rarely happen. 

Shad looked down and took in a deep breath. He decided to give it a try. 

“By the _gods.”_

He lowered the spoon and turned to face Link, who stared back at him as though he’d just done something awful. 

“You must try this at once.”

“Uh, actually… I’ll be fine, thanks. Want mine?”

“Tempting!” Shad gasped. “But no, I must insist. Here you are! Mine has proven safe for consumption at the very least-”

Link’s eyes grew wild as he started dodging the spoon, while the scholar fought to hold him in place. Oh, no. They had no idea what they were playing with! Nothing good ever came about from those damned keese! 

“Sh-Shad! What are you doing? Ahhh - _mph!”_

He fell silent as the cream melted into his mouth. It was like a cold winter’s kiss, followed by… unfathomable sweetness. He swallowed it down.

Shad studied his reaction. “Well, how is it?” 

Link blushed. “… I… I like honey better.” 


	14. Gender-Swapped

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was meant to be longer but I like the idea, so maybe it'll get a rework. :)

“Excuse me.”

She felt a light tap on her shoulder and turned herself around, wondering who that inquisitive voice belonged to. 

Oh. Oh, _Goddesses._ It was the most dazzling person she had ever seen. 

It was a girl around her age — slightly taller — with round glasses, flowing red curls, and eyes the colour of nightshade. She wore a white ruffled blouse with a black ribbon at the collar, beneath a tanned pinafore, topped off with an elaborate purple jacket. It was extravagant! In fact, there were so many layers that her eyes had no clue where to rest. Wait. Were those… little faces on the buttons of her dress? 

Oh no, she was _staring._

“Uhm… yeah?” she mumbled, hating herself for now inarticulate she was. 

“I wanted to ask where you got that outfit.”

“Th-This?” 

She looked down and then bit her lip, straightening her dress as best she could, while adjusting the sash that went around her midsection. 

“Might you be from the southern farmlands?”

“Ordon…” she corrected. “Yeah. I am.” 

“Oh, I just knew it!” 

The girl’s face lit up at once and she blinked back at her, puzzled. Why would a city girl find this piece of news so exciting? Not that she appeared to be a run of the mill sort of person. 

“It was the embroidery and the _obi_ that gave you away,” she gushed. “You see, I’m in the business of fashion. Oh, and I’m a budding historian too! I find it rather advantageous for when I’m looking for a source of inspiration. Not that I’ve needed to look far today.” 

She laughed and quickly reined her reaction in, uncertain if it would cause offence. Talking to this girl felt akin to being swept down the river. She was the _opposite_ of shy! And yet, her clothes suggested importance, and status! Her eyes flitted down to her left hand. Unmarried. Well, that was interesting.

“I, uh… work at the ranch,” she said, offering her hand at last. “Linkle.” 

“You may call me A’Sha.” She smiled. Oh, her hands were so _soft,_ too. And was that perfume? “What brings you to the city, may I ask?”

“Sorry if I seem rude. I’m here looking for a friend. He sort of… went missing from home.” 

“Goddesses! Really? Well, I happen to know just the place for information. May I?” She fought back a blush, as the redhead reached for her hand once again. “The markets can get quite busy. It would be a shame to lose you,” she went on with a sigh. 

Linkle smiled. “Alright. Take me there, and maybe you can tell me the story behind your buttons on the way?” 

It was her turn to blush. “I would be delighted.”


	15. In a Different Clothing Style

Shad put a leg forward as he stared in the mirror, alternating between different stances. He soon realised it was the look on his face offsetting the outfit. He had to relax. And smile. But not with _too_ much effort — it had to come naturally. Link met his eyes in his reflection, before he came forward and tightened the sash that sat just above his hips. His gaze drew the smile out with little effort. 

“Sorry. I know they’re nothing flashy, and you’ve got your own sense of style, apart from everyone else-”

“I adore it,” Shad interrupted. He turned in the mirror once more, admiring the change for what it was. A white robe sat over his shoulders; tied yellow at the centre, above navy culottes and an embroidered sash apron. The only echoes of his usual getup were the round glasses and the strips of leather at his side, which he’d tied neatly into bows. He was still handsome, of course. “You have quite the community here,” he went on. “Not like Castle Town, which I believe you’ve experienced for yourself. It’s every man for himself in those parts!” 

“What about the Resistance?” 

Link’s hands met around his waist and his fingers knotted together to hold him in place. Shad let out a sigh, enjoying the newfound attention. 

“Formed out of necessity, and by those who buck the common trend.” He winked. “No. It is different here. You might wear the same colours as your neighbour, but it is a neighbour with whom you’ve built bridges! A neighbour whose children come by to greet you each morning! You grieve together. You share supplies over the winter months and you work in the same fields in the coming spring. I envy that sense of camaraderie.”

Link cringed playfully. “Um, those kids don’t ever leave, by the way.” 

“… Don’t you see what I’m trying to convey?” Shad went on, exasperated. “Why, the last time I’d had anything to do with my neighbour was when he chased the cat that stopped by my kitchen window with a broom. I gave him _quite_ the telling off.” 

“I can imagine,” Link said with a laugh. He sat his chin on his shoulder to hold him in place. “But you make Ordon sound like some fantasyland! There isn’t some noble spirit tying us together or anything… uh… at least, it’s not in the spirit’s job description. We squabble too.” 

“But your community would unite against a common threat, yes?” 

“Against a wolf, yeah.” 

Link fell quiet as he released Shad. The scholar sensed his tone and turned to face him, allowing his reflection to fall into the background light. 

“I used to get scared that it would happen to me,” he admitted quietly. “As in, _human_ me. I’m a Hylian and I wasn’t born here… but Ilia and Rusl really smoothed things over. It’s such an insular community, I wouldn’t have made it without their help. It took a long time, but I finally got to the point where I could believe that I wasn’t different. And that I was… safe here. I’ll always be thankful for that.” 

Shad gripped his shoulder and tucked a wisp of blonde hair behind one of his pointed ears. “I shall have to remember to give them my thanks as well.” 

The unease seemed to vanish in Link’s eyes as he smiled again. There was always that little part of him darting away, and looking for trouble over his shoulder, but in this moment he seemed calm… if vulnerable. He was open, like a book. “Is there some reason you’re not happy with your town?” he asked suddenly, concerned.

Shad flinched. “Ah. I suppose you arrived long after it happened, didn’t you?” 

Link tilted his head, before he cleared his throat to elaborate. 

“For a time, our reputation was akin to that of some, er… crackpot collective. No thanks to the newspapers. After raising the alarm on the situation in Hyrule Castle, and the sudden absence of the princess, we were accused of ‘seeding distrust and malaise against our benevolent ruler!’ It was a lie that the guards were all too pleased to leave unchallenged. It took some of the blame off their shoulders, you see.”

The hero stared back at him, jaw-dropped and _indignant._ “Shad, I had no idea that happened. That’s horrible.” 

It roused a short bout of laughter from him. In part, due to the stress of it. But also, because he’d always found Link’s political naivety adorable. In a single sweep, he had crushed their enemies, solved the mystery of the Skies and elevated them all to some ungodly celebrity status. He could afford to be naive. Just as _he_ could afford to throw away whatever preconceptions he’d once had about social standing and image. 

“It all worked out in the end. We had a quiet place to meet, and my colleagues were impervious to the public’s opinion.”

“But you weren’t?” Link teased, pinching his sides. 

Shad pulled a wry face. “Oh, but you’re missing the best part… it was when our paths converged in the chaos! And now, an evening of pumpkin ale and gourmet cheese lies ahead of us both!” 

“That’s another good thing about these clothes.” Link grinned. “You can adjust the belt, if you really wanna go hard on the celebrations.”


	16. During Their Morning Rituals

**He** was an early riser. It was surprising, considering how often he worked into the night. 

He started by lighting the lantern on their bedside table. He waited, and watched for a while, as the blankets beside him rose and fell. The sun hadn’t hit the windows yet, and unlike his counterpart, he hadn’t been blessed with amazing vision. 

He tiptoed through the hallway and stepped into the shower, jumping as the water rained down on him. He shuddered in the cold, and whatever lurid thoughts he’d had about staying beneath the sheets were startled away. He didn’t mind so much. He had a job to do, and that special spot — nestled somewhere between his neck and their pillows, where he could breathe him in unabatedly — would be waiting for him at the end of the day. 

He squeezed the dampness out of his hair and slipped into his layers. His skin sang with relief at the warmth. There was a razor in the cabinet but he only seemed to use it every other day. He frowned and then ran his fingers over his chin, quietly despairing at how pointed it was, until his skin scratched against his fingertips. Hmm. Yes, it could wait until tomorrow. 

The sunlight greeted him in the kitchen, streaming bars of gold over the bench tops. He watered the herbs, boiled the kettle, and drew in the vapours of his tea. And then, he set to work. 

**He** was a late riser. It was unsurprising, considering how hard he pushed himself. 

His eyes opened to the sight of crumpled sheets in the morning sun, and a hand-written note where the lantern once sat. _Good morning,_ it said. As though he’d vanished into the sky rather than vacated their bed. 

He heated the shower until he could barely stand it, and closed his eyes, feeling the soreness in his legs melt away. By the time the towel left his shoulders, his hair had already dried. He pushed it and combed it with his fingers — frowning at how flat it rested against his face. He was vaguely aware of the razor they kept in the cabinet, but he had no real need of it. He sighed and reached for his clothes. The scent of leather from his gloves always grounded him, no matter how worn down they seemed to get. 

His footsteps thudded down the stairs. He liked to make his presence known, so there were no big surprises.

But then, he gasped. 

There he sat, on the other end of their table. He looked up from the paper and smiled, his red hair ablaze in the light. Steam wafted around him. There was an untouched plate of eggs stacked on toasted bread, garnished with the herbs from their windowsill. Next to that, a baked apple smothered with butter and a glass of fresh milk. 

He sat himself down. He went to say something but then his stomach growled, and he grimaced, while he laughed. 

He loved the fact that he was a sleepyhead… because the look of surprise on his face was priceless.


	17. Spooning

Shad had never admitted how hard sleeping on the ground was.

His arms were bent against the tile into the worst pillow he had ever used. From it, came a numbness that permeated into the rest of his body. He groaned. And then he forced his eyes open, which felt even heavier than the night before. He pulled his knees a little closer to his chest but released them upon the discovery that it brought him little to no comfort. 

There was snoring nearby. 

Shad glanced over to make sure that Link was still there, curled up a respectable foot or so away. It was not enough to encroach. And certainly, it was not enough to warm his night. He tore his gaze away, envious of whatever dream had painted that smile on his face. 

Goddesses, how many hours had it been? How many hours had he laid there, tossing, and turning, and _aching_ for a soft bed and a good night’s rest? 

His eyes took to his surroundings. 

A curtain of dark sky stretched above him, punctured by stars that did not twinkle. And below him, now clamouring into his ears, came a soft rumble from the other side of the earth — if it could indeed be called that. Pale blue light flashed in the corners of his eyes as he stared up at the chandelier. The air was heavy. Not a breeze stirred through the cracks and the caved-in parts of the ceiling. Even the turbines on the horizon had come to a rest. 

He knew what it meant. There was a storm. 

Luckily, there was no need to find shelter. They were well above the canopy of clouds and camped within the heart of the ruins. The Oocca were nestled into the gaps on the walls, sleeping soundly in groups and pairs, oblivious to the world below. They would never know the smell of petrichor, or the sound of water dripping off a forest of leaves, or the shuddering of windows in the downpour. He groaned again. It was the perfect weather for sleeping indoors! What a crime to miss it! Especially with someone so handsome resting over there… 

Oh, but what was he doing? What was he _thinking?_ They were already in the city of his dreams — he couldn’t ask for anything more. In fact, if they were any closer to the ground, he feared the gods would strike him with lightning. 

Link mumbled and then jolted awake upon a distant crack of thunder. His hands reached for Shad’s shoulder, as though to pull him from the danger, before he sharply withdrew them. The scholar caught him at the last second and turned himself over with a smile. 

“What is it? Shad? W-What-” 

“It’s alright, old boy. Just a spot of rain below us.” 

“… Oh.” The sound of his voice was forlorn, apologetic. “You’re… awake?” 

“It startled me as well,” he lied. “No matter. I’ll catch up on my rest when we’re home, easy enough.” 

There was a short silence before Link spoke again. 

“Are you cold?” he asked quietly. “Agh. I knew I should’ve brought a blanket.” 

“That’s not… w-well… uh.” No wonder he couldn’t form any words, he told himself. He had spent most of this expedition functioning on a minimal amount of sleep. “I’ve managed thus far, yes? And you seem to be doing well enough without one.” 

“Yeah, but you’re too polite to mention anything about our sleeping arrangements. Or is it stubborn?”

For someone who’d been awake for less than a minute, he was being very provocative. Shad smirked. He hoped that the dark would conceal most of his expression, though he couldn’t be sure.

“Apologies!” he called over the rolling thunder. “It is dreadfully _loud_ up here and I didn’t hear a word you said.” 

“Oh.” Link laughed, thankful for the do-over. “I said, _I’m sorry_ I wasn’t more considerate. And… if there’s anything I can do to make this easier on you, let me know?” 

Shad felt the nerves in his hands and face come alive with fire. He swallowed thickly. “I shan’t impose on you, old boy. You have done enough by simply getting us here.” 

“Are you sure?” 

He heard the sound of Link shuffling over before he caught him again, moving, and then stopping, just shy of touching him. Their eyes met. There was no universe in which he could be cold right now. He was uncomfortably hot! And he could feel his breath! It electrified him, just as the blue light from below flickered upon the walls. 

“What can I do to help?” 

“I-I might… like to pretend I’m back home,” he confessed softly. “Sleeping below the covers of my bed… and having them weigh me down, until I can no longer stay awake.” 

Link smiled. “Turn around.” 

Shad obeyed, propping his arm beneath him as a pillow once more. He held his breath. He hadn’t realised just how rigid he was, laying there on the ground, until he felt two arms enclosing around him. One came to rest over his shoulder and squeezed him gently, shooting volts of excitement into his stomach. He let out a sigh. The other arm looped stealthily beneath him. Link wasn’t sure where to put his hand at first, until he folded it neatly against his chest and felt the thrumming of his heartbeat. It spiked whenever the thunder crashed. But they held on together, tighter. 

Shad closed his eyes. 

And eventually, he forgot all about the storm.


	18. Doing Something Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shad would have a bad time with rollercoasters. ;)

A mere glimpse of the valley below sent a wave of nausea into his chest. Was he sweating? Goddesses, he shouldn’t be _allowed_ to sweat — he was all the way up here, in this cold, in this awful breeze. The wind scattered flecks of snow down the slopes, leaving an anxious silence in its wake. It felt much higher than it looked. 

“You scared, uh?” 

Shad looked up at the mountain of white hair next to him. He stood at least another man-and-a-half over them, with grey skin and eerily round yellow eyes. 

“I am _not,”_ he insisted. “Although… is there some reason we cannot simply walk down?” 

Yeto began to laugh and slap his sides. Shad failed to hold back the look on his face, clearly miffed. This creature had the same manners as Ashei. 

“UH HA HA HA! You bring funny human with you, uh? I see why you together.”

Link blushed. He’d been so excited about this trip, and Shad was reluctant to put a damper on things. But hurtling down a dangerous snowy incline, where one wrong move could leave him with a broken ankle? This was not exactly his idea of a fun holiday. 

“There’s a couple of ledges which are safer to jump at speed,” Link explained. He read the look on his face and rubbed his shoulder to comfort him. “We’ll have to hike around them on the way back.” 

“Could we not… hike around them on the way _there?”_

“Oh! And ice keese, huh? Not good for little humans with no fur.” 

“Ah.” 

Shad sighed and gripped his forehead. Admittedly, the monster levels in Hyrule had declined since the end of Ganondorf, but he knew that many dangerous creatures still called this mountain home. 

“You don’t need to do anything,” Link went on cheerfully. “Just grab on around my waist. I’ll steer us. Oh, and you might need to duck when I do. If we, um… don’t launch properly, we might not make the jumps-” 

Anything that Link continued to say after that was drowned out by the ringing in Shad’s ears. Did he just say they _might_ not make it? That they might really die here, today, at the bottom of some Goddess-forsaken ravine? Surely the old boy should have the hook-shot out and ready to go, rather than keeping it stuffed away in that tunic of his. 

“… That’s all there is to it! Easy, right? Any questions?”

Shad swallowed. “Pardon?”

“You’ve gotta relax!” Link repeated, this time rubbing his back. “If you stand stiff like that on the board, you’ll fall off. You need to bend your knees! And look to the horizon to keep your balance. Or… uh, don’t. Actually, maybe you should close your eyes.” 

“You humans talk too much!” Yeto bellowed over the top of them. “I see you home, uh? Make special soup for our guest!” 

Shad jumped with fright as Yeto smacked into the nearby tree, and a thick sheet of ice fell from its branches. The great beast trapped it beneath his feet, before he edged forward and gravity pulled him into motion. It was slow. But then, it was swift enough to throw chunks of snow into the air as he passed. The scholar had to hand it to him — he made it look terribly easy. Although, he and Link were rather small in comparison… puny, in fact. And neither of them possessed a tail to hold their balance. 

Oh dear. The adrenaline was setting in and his heart was beginning to leap out of his chest. This was really happening. 

“So.” Shad took a deep breath and turned to face Link. “If I were to do all of these things correctly, how would you rate our survival?” 

Link shrugged. “You’re alright with the Sky Cannon, aren’t you? This is so much safer than that.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “I thought you said that the Sky Cannon was safe?” 

“Well, nothing bad ever happened to me. But there’s always a chance, you know? I mean, if the angle was even slightly off…” 

Shad stared back at him.

“Ninety percent. I give us ninety percent, it depends if you follow what I say.” 

“… Alright. That I can do.”

The scholar bit his lip and watched as Link rolled into the same tree, and a smaller sheet of ice, curved fortuitously at the edges, slapped onto the snow below. He pulled it well away from the slopes and stood upon it, demonstrating his posture, before he gestured for Shad to step on. He did this, and then he wrapped his arms around him, enjoying the fleeting warmth. They practiced leaning together. Ducking together. There was no getting around the awkwardness of their height difference — as the tallest, it would’ve followed naturally that Shad was in front. 

However, sledding was _not_ his thing. 

“I think we’re ready.” Link grinned. “Try to have fun. It’ll be over quickly… and after, we’ve got the best soup I’ve ever had to look forward to.” 

“Let us go,” Shad implored. “Before I lose my nerve!” 

They jostled into position. 

And then, he closed his eyes. 

He felt the slow drag of the snow against the sled. It was powdery and soft, and there were mounds from where Yeto had blazed through a little while ago. The air whistled in his ears and his hair began to fly behind him in tangles of red — he felt the flattening of the curve at the bottom of the slopes, which soon rushed up to meet them. He felt the twitch in Link’s muscles as he bent down and immediately followed suit. There was a pause. They seemed to be dashing forward at the same trajectory for a long moment, until suddenly the roaring beneath their feet stopped, and they stood up, together. They flew over the breach with ease. 

The sled crashed back down onto the slopes. They cut left through the snow, then right, gaining speed as the hill took them further. 

Shad thought he might open his eyes. Goddesses! He’d thought that they were careening back and forth for the fun of it — but there were rocks and trees scattered about the hills. He peered up at the blue cliffs that sealed them into the basin, marvelling at their perilous heights. Then he hazarded a glance at the horizon. There were forests in the distance, blanketed with white and shrouded in mist. 

Though the odd bump in their path sent a jolt of fear into his stomach through his legs, and the rushing air made it difficult to breathe, he slowly realised what Link had been saying. The old boy had been right! It was far better to relax, even with a green hat blowing right into his face.

They passed a cluster of keese before Link ducked again, and Shad fell clumsily into position, his thoughts disrupted. He’d only managed a split-second glimpse of the ravine they went soaring over the top of. He screamed and immediately shut his eyes again. It was just as well, for they went sailing down the tree tops a moment later and crashed down hard onto the snow. Link was suspiciously quiet, and he was certain he had to be smiling. 

No. Sledding was not his thing, after all.


	19. In Formal Wear

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise for the delay, work has been difficult! Please enjoy some continued ShadLink. :)

By the gods, Hyrule Castle was enormous. I’d almost forgotten the scale of it with that blasted barrier in the sky all those months! 

My mouth was dry, and my hands were trembling, and there was a faint _buzzing_ in my face, until his head came to rest on my shoulder from behind. I took a deep breath. And then I moved my gaze from the courtyard. I turned it sideward, watching as those blue eyes peered back at me. A curtain of blonde hair concealed much of his face. It was almost a shame, though it suited him well. 

“We did it,” he said. I felt the nudge of his chin as he spoke and it sent tingles down my back. 

“We?” My lips twisted into a smirk. “Well, by comparison, all I did was stand around and look dashing.” I laughed, feeling the very opposite of dashing in that moment, but he was quick to reassure me. As predicted. 

“Don’t do that.” 

“I’m sorry, old boy?” 

His hands let go of me as he pulled away. I could hear the sternness in his voice as he continued, though his gaze was soft, attentive. “Don’t talk yourself down! You’ve done so much work for Hyrule and nobody even knows. Though… I guess that’ll change after tonight. You’ll go with me, won’t you Shad?” 

“Go with…? Oh, heavens. The ball!” I laughed again and wrung my hands, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of my nose. “Might that be an official invitation? From the famed Hero of Light himself?” 

He made a very undignified sound and failed to stifle the look of disgust on his face. “Don’t do that either.”

“Address you by your proper title?”

He laughed. “I mean talk me _up.”_

“Ah.” I smirked again, enjoying the diversion. “Very well, I suppose I will have to suppress the urge. And on the matter of your invitation — I would feel most honoured to accept it. _If_ your offer still stands.” 

He fumbled, speechless for a moment, before his eyes lit up and his hands were on my shoulders again. I felt a blush begin to sprawl across my face. 

He’d always had that effect on me. In fact, I had noticed something between us from the very moment he’d walked into the tavern… however if the Goddesses called upon me to explain it, I would only disappoint them. He was a hero. And I was a scholar. What did I have to offer that he couldn’t find now, in one of Zelda’s archives, or perhaps in her very court? 

He squeezed me. And then my eyes shot forward, meeting his own. We grew still, and I was no longer aware of the castle peaking into the sky before us.

“Of course it does. I’ll get ready at Telma’s and bring Epona to yours around five?” 

“I look forward to it.”

* * *

There was a whistle at my window. 

Thankfully for us, the rest of the city was eagerly preparing itself for the grand event, and there was not a soul to be found wandering the streets. For those who could not attend the ball itself, there was a festival running in the main square. I suddenly realised that we would be passing it on the way to the castle. The thought alone reduced my legs into a liquid as I pulled them down the stairs and out the front door. 

There, I gasped, floored.

He was every bit as _handsome_ as I’d feared. 

White, leather boots stretched high above his dark velour pants, matched with a long set of gloves! My eyes were captured by the golden crest of the royal family emblazoned across his chest before they absorbed the rest of his tunic. The luxurious shade of blue cut a handsome shape against his crimson undershirt. The finishing touch was a sword — not his usual one, I noticed — strapped to the belt that hugged his midsection. 

The outfit was practical, and yet… 

“You are exquisite. Truly. I do not have the words, Link.” 

He shuffled awkwardly and looked away, a touch of colour to his face. I barely uttered his name, a fact I was embarrassingly aware of, and yet the sound of it now was all I had to capture the shock of his beauty. 

“Thank you,” he said. I watched, holding my tongue, as his eyes latched onto my boots and then trailed upwards, his jaw hanging open. It was quite the compliment. Especially when it contrasted so blatantly against his regal image! He smiled with newfound confidence _._ “You’re gorgeous, you know?” 

“Oh my.” 

It was nothing special. A vintage ensemble from my father’s time, in fact, though I’d kept it in immaculate condition. The waistcoat came in deep purple, contrasted against a red tie and beige blouse. 

“Ah…” I felt as articulate as ever. “I… am most flattered. You’ve always been handsome, old boy. Effortlessly so.” 

“And you’ve always been smart. And passionate. And talented!” He grinned. “I couldn’t have done it without you. And I want everyone there to _know_ that.” 

I caught a flash of movement in the corner of my eyes and looked down, noticing something poorly concealed in his hands. Some object! A bulky one, that happened to be in the exact shape and colour as… _my book?_

Oh, HEAVENS. I could feel myself turning blue, burning ice cold and shuddering white hot in tandem. This was unprecedented. Outrageous! He had really done it now. 

“What is it?”

“You cannot seriously be carrying that old thing around!”

I heard my own laughter echo down the empty streets. 

“Why not?” There was a rebellious glint in his eye. “Everytime they exaggerate my efforts, I’m gonna be sharing facts about the Oocca and the historian in their midst. And how none of us would be here without the Resistance, who fought so hard to save them. Watch me. They’ll know all of your names by the end of the night. Especially you, Shad. I… love you.” 

The buzzing in my face clawed its way back.

Suddenly, _dizzyingly,_ I felt as though I might be taller than the castle itself.


	20. Dancing

He was handsome, clever, and very distracting. But I couldn’t let my guard down. 

The castle was packed to the brim with many eyes and ears. I glimpsed the hungry faces in the gallery, and immediately flinched and turned away. Gods, that was a mistake. 

I know it’s mostly my fault. Alright… _completely_ my fault. If I hadn’t gone around bragging about his achievements like they were somehow my own, they wouldn’t be sizing him up now, like a river fish before a clowder of cats. It also hadn’t helped that they seemed to gravitate towards him more than the rest of the Resistance. Rusl was married, and Auru was already known to the court and getting on in his years. Ashei had gotten it pretty bad, but after a couple of bent fingers and stomped on feet, they’d finally taken the hint. 

I heard the sound of a cleared throat and looked up to find him staring at me, ignoring the whispers and outstretched hands. He was doing such a good job of hiding how awful it was. Agh! 

“Don’t tell me that you aren’t enjoying yourself on such a momentous night?” His tone was sympathetic. Far more than I deserved at this moment. 

“It’s fine.” 

His eyes glimmered back at me, and I chewed the inside of my mouth. 

Of all the times I had to go rushing in, I couldn’t believe I’d done it again tonight. Shad deserved better. He didn’t need to be dragged into the spotlight by someone who couldn’t stop and take a moment to ask him what he wanted. _I said I loved him!_ But what kind of person does this to someone they love? What must he think of me? I wondered what Midna would make of this mess and felt my stomach sink all the way down to the bed of Lake Hylia. 

I’ve been such an idiot. 

“Shall we dance?” 

I blinked back at him. 

Apparently, the strings and flutes had started playing. I wanted to push the music away, but something about it was… calming. He took my hands within his own. They were warm and soft, and no longer trembling. His mouth then hardened into a convincing smile. 

I suddenly realised that he wasn’t having any trouble at all. He knew the rules. He knew how to conduct himself and wore the mask over his usual state of nervousness like it was a game. The trouble was me. _I_ was the one panicking! 

“You… wanna dance with me?” I asked, stupidly. 

I saw the effort he used to conceal his expression and thought back to our audience. We occupied some awkward space to the side of the dance floor — surrounded by a throng of spectators who were clearly waiting for us to make the first move. 

“Link.” 

He tsk-ed, grabbing my attention again. My heart jumped a little out of my chest. I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to hearing my name from his mouth. 

“Shad.” I grinned back. 

“May I?” 

I gripped his hand, and he leaned in close to speak into my ear, daring as ever. 

“They won’t be able to eavesdrop on us out there.” 

Goddesses, why hadn’t I thought of that?

He led me out onto the dance floor. My eyes latched onto his shoulder as we went, and the voices around us fell silent, either drowned out by the orchestra or stilled by the sight of us together. 

He fell into the proper formation — our hands raised in the air between us — and then smiled, while I stumbled into place. Nobody warned me that these boots would take some getting used to. In comparison, his steps were so gentle and agile. They were almost making me look bad! I realised that I’d started on the wrong leg when he chuckled and squeezed my hand. I shrugged it off and took a deep breath. 

“Remember?” he murmured. 

“Yeah. I’ve got this.” 

I wanted to know his secret for getting through the night, but for now I had to pretend we were somewhere else. 

I thought of the creaking floorboards of the bar where we practiced. And the smell of mead and old books in the corner. I felt the pull in his arms as he guided me into a spin. There was clapping in the corner, where Ilia and Telma had leaned against the counter, doing their best not to push things along. I gambled by pulling my eyes from Shad’s shoulder and found her standing in the crowd, watching silently with her hands draped over her mouth. I winked back at her. 

Before I knew it, I’d fallen into the dance.

“Shad… I’m sorry about tonight.”

He tore his own eyes from something in the distance. I hoped it wasn’t Ashei fighting off another prospective suitor.

“Oh?”

“You know… for pushing you into something you didn’t ask for. And drawing even _more_ attention to everyone at a thing like this. I went too far.” 

He seemed to think this was funny. 

“That nobleman who snatched my book went too far, old boy. First edition! Though, I’d only ever sold a mere dozen copies. No, I believe your efforts tonight are not to blame.”

“You’re not mad at me?” 

“Perish the thought.” 

There was a golden silence as we moved around the room, before I felt his shoulder dip and lower me into a hanging position. I held on tight. If the whole room wanted to look at us, I no longer cared. He smirked and then hauled me to my feet. The music stopped, just as he murmured, “I love you too, Link.”


	21. Cooking

He’d promised me his secrets.   
  
Alright. Perhaps _promised_ was a bit of an exaggeration.   
  
There was nothing promissory in his words, or lack thereof, but after doing the impossible; and leaving me there, dumb-founded, with nothing but a breath of relief and a silent nod; I’d expected to hear from him sooner!   
  
I knew better than to bother him with my nonsense before the battle. My colleagues had taken great pains to ensure it all went smoothly, all the way down to their sharpened blades, packed quivers and clipped words. I’d even slipped a cuirass beneath my shirt to put a stop to any sort of untimely demise. However, even then, the chasm between us only seemed to deepen. He had his role. I had mine. And while it hadn’t been _entirely_ apparent in the beginning, I knew that he was miles beyond my league.   
  
It was then that I’d decided… fine. He could keep his secrets.   
  
The last thing I expected to find was him on my doorstep one afternoon; a day before the grand ceremony, no less; knocking on my door like some common salesman. I was baffled! Of course, I cast a wayward glance at the neighbours and stepped aside to let him in, before they raised a fuss. Only the Goddesses knew how many times this could happen without crowds at my windows.  
  
He sits at my table; where his eyes, cerulean like the waters of Lake Hylia at midday, are turned down at the blank space before him. I offer him a cup of tea. He smiles, winces and shakes his head. We laugh quietly.   
  
I’d noticed this before, but he always conducted himself politely for someone so… rigorously battle-hardened. _If_ a little secretive. ‘Mysterious’ was the word Ashei had used. Of all the labels she might’ve chosen, that one was the most complimentary, and perhaps the least frustrated for all of the knowledge he seemed to hold to himself. And for that view, I envied her.   
  
Admittedly, I’m… not entirely sure what to do now that he’s here.

I know he means to talk.   
  
But before I know what I’m saying, my nerves get the better of me, and I offer him the secret to the best honey crepes he might ever try. A Castle Town speciality! Heavens, I haven’t the slightest idea what’s wrong with me, though it seems rude beyond measure to have the Hero of Light over and leave him staring at the space where a decent meal belonged. My hospitality was on the line! I could hardly let him leave without some show of courtesy.   
  
I’m surprised when he doesn’t immediately decline my offer. His head tilts in some adorable manner, and I see the gears in that inscrutable mind of his ticking away, before his gaze matches my own. That’s when I realise, he… might not know what I’m talking about. Crepes were not an Ordonian thing, per say. Their specialties were colourful, hearty dishes such as pies and pumpkin stew; things that made the greatest use of their crops! Nothing so delicate and insubstantial as sweets in the afternoon.   
  
I sigh. My ignorance is certifiable at this point. I want to apologise and go back to being out of the old boy’s way.   
  
The rod of the heavens? The missing sky letters? The fact that someone _other_ than me had unearthed the fabled sky canon; our last bastion of communication with beings that lived beyond our reach? Oh, it hurts. It glares into me like a fever dream one might experience upon their deathbed. And I would let it go — if it meant not sounding even more like the idiot I am, in front of him.   
  
“Alright.”  
  
I double-take and adjust my glasses. Surely, he’s having me on.   
  
He smiles at me. “Can I help?”   
  
Farore, he rarely spoke, but that voice was something else.   
  
I smile back at him. “Perhaps.”   
  
As it happens, I have a fresh batch of eggs and a bottle of milk sitting by the counter. He follows me over, leaving all that heavy gear of his on the floor, and watches as they splash into the flour and combine, easily, into silk. I hand him the bowl. The mixing spoon is enveloped within it.   
  
“If you’ve had enough practice like me, old boy, there shouldn’t be any lumps,” I tell him, off-handedly.  
  
He does a spectacular job of blending them out. I add another splash of milk and commandeer the whisk from his hands. He watches me, quiet as usual, as I tilt the bowl to the side, showing the flawless texture of the batter in the light.   
  
“I suppose the extra muscle helped! You’re quite handy to have in the kitchen.”  
  
This elicits a smile. To be honest, I’m quite chuffed about it. Hanging around with him one-on-one was not quite as difficult as I’d imagined.   
  
“Now then, for the most dangerous part of all! We wait.”  
  
“We… wait?”  
  
“Yes. We must give it time to rest and allow the flour to relax. Trust me.”   
  
Link frowns at it, as though it might be a living thing. Perhaps it seemed bad practice for someone who was used to preparing things quickly. “Alright,” he says.   
  
The quiet isn’t so discomforting now. I’ve realised that his natural manner is more observational than aloof; more prospecting rather than judging. He jumped at the chance to assist others and regularly made his feelings known through smaller gestures; through smiles and reciprocation. I could work with that. I often spoke enough for the two of us.  
  
We sit back at the table and I show him my research diary over the past year, logging each of my trips beyond the safety of the city walls. He’s more than happy to read through it. He then asks me about the monkeys in the Faron region who made off with my lantern. Luckily, I’d happened upon some other fellow who lived in a lonely clearing, who sold me a new one at a discount. The look on his face makes me wonder if this was some sort of common occurrence.   
  
I stoke the flames at a high temperature and sit the pan on the heat. He follows. And then, he watches as the batter swirls into a thin layer of pastry. Once the bubbles form and escape from the top, much like a rough sheet of paper smoothed out of its crinkles, I thrust the pan forward and flip it over in one swift movement. I admit, I’m showing off a little but he whistles, impressed.   
  
By the time it’s served, I’ve almost forgotten about the reason for his visit. I let him drizzle the honey over the crepes in rich folds of burnt gold.   
  
“Good show! I couldn’t have done them better myself.”   
  
He seems a little embarrassed at my praise and shakes his head.   
  
I hand him the plate with a smile. “Here you are, old boy. It’s best to eat them while they’re hot.”   
  
He takes it, gratefully, and we eat in warm silence.   
  
When he vanishes that evening, as quickly as he’d arrived, I notice a strange, multi-pronged instrument left behind on the table. I haven’t the slightest idea how it escaped my notice but he must’ve placed it there while my back was turned. There could be no accident about it. The sceptre is a gorgeous thing; forged from ice blue metal and carved with sky letters, woven into sacred incantations. I fear I might be hallucinating the light in its veins.   
  
Beneath the rod, I find a notebook. Not unlike mine, in fact.   
  
It’s his diary. 


	22. In Battle, Side-by-Side

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Interviewer: So, when did you lose control of this prompt?
> 
> Well, it all started when I GOT the prompt-
> 
>  **CW:** Horror elements, violence, arachnophobia.

There’s a frenzied hammering at his door. And a shout. Shrill, panicked, and familiar. He sits upright, feeling shivers down his back. 

_No. Something’s happened._

He kicks the blankets away and thuds onto the ground floor, risking his ankle to spare the ladder. He throws open the door and then staggers. It’s Ilia. Eyes wide, dirt caked onto her knees, her hair windblown. The moment she sees him, her composure shatters. She’s crying now, trembling between breaths. Epona paws the ground over her shoulder, facing towards the forest. 

“I’m sorry,” she sniffles. “I had to leave them to get help! You’re the only one who can help them!” 

“What is it?” 

His head thumps like a cluster of armos on a cold marble ground. He’s too numb to remember wrapping his arm over her shoulder. 

“They need you in the sacred grove! Link, they woke something _up.”_

“I’m going.”

He runs to Epona and hauls himself into the saddle. Ilia stares back at him. He nods once, feeling the fury of his old life returned. He will fix this. Even if it kills him. She remembers the boy who rose again from the bloodied waters of the springs, and nods back, her work done. 

He goes thundering into the shadows. Slivers of moonlight peek through the rustling trees, illuminating the path before them like bright shards of glass. It goes by in a blur. There’s a fraction of silence when Epona springs over the fallen logs and stones on the forest floor. Eventually, they scrape into a stop. The edge of the wood looms before them, filled with cold air and the chattering of night creatures. He leaves Epona to the clearing. She watches, as he climbs onto the gnarled roots of a dead tree so big it dwarfs the one he calls home.

He whistles loudly, and the wild goes quiet. A cucco answers by falling down from the branches. He snatches it in his hands and vaults into the crevasse, springing off the ledges in quick steps. He’s never cleared it so fast. 

A campfire greets him on the other side of the forest. There’s a bundle of books over by a fallen log, next to a whetstone, and a bag of bombs. Rusl’s hawk sits in the branch above, sleeping with its head tucked into its side. He frowns. Ilia had insisted on accompanying the Resistance. She wanted to be more like him, she’d said. Of course, he’d forgotten to warn her that this often meant getting into trouble — _big_ _trouble,_ looking at the desolate state of the camp.

His eyes scan over the book left opened by the fire, its pages flickering yellow. The heading steals his attention, even as he’s reluctant to stop. 

‘The Temple of Time: A Missing Link?’

He breathes sharply. It’s his handwriting. 

‘No pun intended — but I think I might’ve managed to piece this one together. The stone giants who guarded this hidden gem, refusing to budge for any old traveler, turned bright at the swing of my arm and stepped aside to let us through! It was utterly breathtaking! And it’s all thanks to this gifted contraption. The Rod of the Heavens.’

His heart sinks. 

_I should’ve warned him not to go digging! Not without me there!_

‘My colleagues seemed pleased enough with the results, and suggested we push further in the morning. They soon lost that argument. As we sit here now, on the brink of night, preparing ourselves for the unknown, I cannot help but feel blessed for this opportunity. If only… he were here.’ 

His face grows hot and he pushes the thoughts away. This wasn’t the time to be dawdling! They needed his help, now! 

He swipes his lantern into the campfire and presses on through the murky dark. The trees around him are somehow older and taller than any building he’s ever seen, with the exception of Hyrule Castle. They stretch into an ancient canopy, high above the waterfalls and streams that weave their way into the sacred grove. A child’s laughter echoes in the distance. He rushes through. He doesn’t have time to play. 

He comes into the clearing where the two giants stood, framed by great stone arches that were the husk of the Temple of Time. Somehow, they’d vanished. 

Before he can check for tracks, he sees the faint glow of orange flames. Followed by shouting. And _hissing._ The hair on his arms spikes upwards. It was a ghastly sound, different from any of the creatures he’d heard on the way here, and yet it was strangely familiar. His thoughts are interrupted when the ground rumbles. He listens on and measures the tremors, which then come in sets of eight. He remembers the unique terror on Ilia’s face. 

_Damnit._

His sword rings free. 

He sprints past the crumbling arches on the way to the main clearing, which falls down into a natural crater, tapered by ledges and stairs of ancient stone. It’s a little brighter here. He spots a few bubbles of light in the distance and then clips the lantern onto his belt. Although his senses aren’t as keen as they used to be, he squints and begins to notice something else shifting through the grass, rolling and glittering in terrible waves of black. 

Gods, no, there were thousands of them. Spiders. There were spiders pouring out everywhere! 

They came in swarms, from every crack and crevice of the old ruins, flowing like a river from a single entrance point he knew to be buried at the bottom of the hill. On their own, they were no more threatening than the ones he might’ve found in the garden or nestled into the corners of the basement. But together? In those numbers? They were a huge problem! He then spots the larger ones, pale, with swollen abdomens, clamouring over the sea of tiny arachnids. This type was far more aggressive and prone to attacking humans. 

He yells out to catch their attention. Someone shouts back. 

He cleaves a path over to the first light in the clearing, whirling the Master Sword over the cursed insects. They recoil beneath the scorching blue heat of the steel, leaving trails of dead in the grass. As he closes the gap, he sees a face.

Auru swings his torch at two of the larger spiders, burning their legs with every lurch, while the swarm weaves a web around his feet. His cannon was a last resort — it was far too powerful to use at this range. When they sense the Master Sword, they begin to scurry faster around their victim. The older man kicks them away but more rush in to take their place. It’s futile. 

“Get away! You horrid things!”

He glares at the scene before him like a wounded beast. He can’t let them win.

“HYAAAAH!” 

He springs forward, and with a violent spin, the swarm bends back, much like a broken arm. They release Auru. As he jumps in front, he pierces the two larger spiders into the dirt, putting them down with cold haste. Auru stumbles and catches himself on a fallen column. He seems shaken, but he’s alright. 

He whirls around, dripping flecks of green. “Where’s Shad?” 

“He went to the gate,” Auru says grimly, “with that magical artefact you gave him. Link, whatever is happening down there, it is beyond our control. You must persuade him to put it to rest.”

“I’ll try.” 

“Here, take this with you. For the good of Hyrule.” 

He takes the cannon in both hands, floored, momentarily. There could be no more travelling between realms after this. No roads back to the place where the Goddesses kept their secrets… where evil had made its home, and been reborn again in some tainted and intangible past. He nods at Auru. He knows what must be done. The weapon takes the place of the shield on his back. 

“Head back to camp. I’ll save the others,” he promises. 

The level below him is steep and dark. He jumps down into it, following the tremors which seem to get heavier, though not at all louder. He finds himself at the cobbled floor of the ruins — the monotony of them broken by grids of moss, and the occasional tendril of spiders looking to group with the others. He notices the next orb of flame flashing against the ruin walls, swinging back and forth in the heat of combat. 

Rusl is in the thick of it. There’s a dozen of the larger spiders grouped around him, arching and springing in turns to attack. They taste the steel of his blade as they screech and scutter away, looking to angle themselves at his sides. For all the trouble they’re giving him, he’s winning! He parries another wave of attacks, without so much as a stagger, when the swarm drips from the wall above him and comes down in a heavy tide. The spiders pin his arm to the wall. He drops his torch. His sword arm swipes up to cut them off, but it leaves him open to the ones on the ground. They crunch into his ankles. He winces and crashes against the wall. 

“RUSL!! NO!” 

“Link?” he chokes.

The spiders drop Rusl’s leg and turn their attention to him. It’s the last thing they do. His face darkens into a scowl, as he runs forward, hacking and slashing the creatures at lighting speed. His shouting bounces off the walls as he cleaves them into submission. Their carcasses all lay pinned and splattered upon the ground. The swarm above moves in to retaliate, but he smashes the lantern onto them, coating them with oil before they go up in flames. Any that linger retreat. 

He looks up at Rusl, who seems gaunt, though very much alive. His limbs are anchored to the ruins by a curtain of web. The whole thing seems pretty terrible, until he laughs.

“That was fast. I’ll have to thank Ilia when I see her.” 

“Are you alright?”

“I’ll manage. But the others might not be so lucky, so go on ahead!” he implores. “The spiders won’t trouble me if they can’t sense me moving. I trust you can put an end to the problem.”

“Let me do this first,” he insists, hands shaking, as he cuts Rusl’s arms free. He leaves his mentor with a red potion and a knife from his pockets. It’s the best he can do for now. “I’ll come back for you.”

“Thank you. Please, hurry.” 

He leaves the torch behind and pushes on. 

He regrets this decision when the hollow black of the level below yawns before him. But the inner sanctum glimmers through the dark, mirroring the forest in shades of grey. He takes the plunge and lands with no sound. There’s something strange around his feet, which begin to feel heavy and crinkle and drag with every step. He squints and finds something white stretched all over the floor. He knows what it is. A thick carpet of web.

He cringes and lifts his feet higher than usual to stop the drag, but not high enough to stop himself from tripping over a body. A non-human body. Upon closer inspection, he spots dozens of spiders strewn all around him in an unreadable, gory mess. But the sanctum is right in front of him! If only he could-

The ground shudders.

Something dark, and larger than most of the ruins, lurches out from behind the wall and into the clearing below. It hisses, front arms raised — visceral in its proximity — before its angered footsteps are felt in the ground. Farore, no. It couldn’t be. He freezes on the spot. Before he can do anything else, a cold metal hand encloses over his mouth. 

Ashei snarls, “Keep quiet.”

The beast treads around, pausing between intervals as they hold still. A large red eye shoots open on its back. He shadows the gleam of his sword beneath his leg. The eye darts around, sensing some sort of change in its new lair, while they hold their breath in unison. Eventually, the creature scuttles back behind the wall. He lets out a sigh. It has remarkable stealth for something so enormous. 

“He ran in there with that stupid wand,” she whispers. Her metal hand points to the gate. “And I got him there in one piece, so don’t screw it up by luring _that_ _thing_ out. We’re not equipped for it.” 

She releases him. 

“What’s the plan?” he breathes. 

“I don’t know. But he’s been gone for ages. Tread. Carefully.” 

He sees the outline of her face as he tiptoes through the dark. Pale, blood-splattered, and extremely pissed off. He grinds his teeth as he closes in on the portal. Gods, it’s his fault. He knows it is. If that door hadn’t been left wide open with easy access, these terrors wouldn’t have been unleashed into the forest! Rusl wouldn’t have been bitten! 

The surface of the gate ripples as he approaches, reaching out with a tentative hand. The grey envelops him. The forest melts away. There’s no more darkness or web, or the smell of earth and distant smoke. The new room is polished and painfully bright. He shields his eyes with a hand, searching the realm for that familiar place. There it waited, stretching out from the foyer in front of him — the Temple of Time. 

Another, far more familiar one stood just to the side of it. The one who held all the answers. The one he’d been searching for all this time. 

“Shad!” 

His voice carries effortlessly across the room. The scholar turns around and adjusts his glasses, almost jumping on the spot in surprise. 

“Link! Could it be? Is it really you, old boy?”

“What are you doing?!”

“Come this way!” he beckons. “Quickly!”

He runs over with little choice but to obey. As mad as he is about the situation, it feels… different around Shad. Like some youthful optimism is pulling him forward. And the world outside isn’t pitch black and drowning in spiders. He feels the frown on his face falling away as the scholar beams and addresses him, reverently. 

“See that?” he questions. 

He peers through the window to the Temple of Time. An enormous statute, even greater than the giants who guarded the sacred grove, stands ready, wielding a hammer of stone. His eyes shoot wide. How did it get out here? Did these things have a mind of their own? And what about all of the monsters he’d destroyed? His head aches from all of the questions. 

“I must retrieve this fellow to save my friends! I need to make this right! But something is preventing me from making it through with the rod alone. I need some sort of… pass.” 

The Master Sword glows at his side. There’s no hiding it from Shad. His face lights up at once, in awe.

“You have the key, don’t you? Excellent! Thank the Goddesses, you couldn’t have timed it any better. Would you help me with this, old boy? I have quite the debt to pay off.” 

“I will,” he agrees. “But I’m closing the gate when we’re done.” 

“Oh?” Shad falters, catching himself on the spot. “Surely you don’t mean…” He stops when he notices Auru’s cannon in the place of the Hylian shield. “B-But… with the threat gone, I would only need a matter of days to-”

“It’s too dangerous!” Something inside of him snaps, as he reaches out and grabs Shad square by the shoulders. The scholar goes still. So does he. He drowns in a mixture of shock and adrenaline, and quite possibly something else that starts to send him dizzy. “Shad, listen to me! We can’t go poking around in other realms. I thought I purged this place from evil but… something’s WRONG! It’s connected to something bigger than all of us. I can’t risk it. Especially not with you.” 

Those indigo eyes blare back at him with resounding fervour. He’s blushing for some reason. 

“You can ask me all about this place,” he continues, getting softer with every word. “Anything you want to know, I’m yours. But for now, we need to shut it off. It’s the right thing to do.”

“… I know, Link,” Shad murmurs. “And I’m terribly sorry for all of the trouble. I must apologise to the others, too. I let my excitement cloud my judgment and fed us all into harm’s way.” 

“It’s okay. You couldn’t have known. I… should’ve gone with you.” 

He breathes a sigh of relief. 

“The statue then? Let’s fix this together.” 

“At your lead, old boy.” 

The Master Sword lights up the room as they burst through the invisible barrier, hand-in-hand, and run to the sentinel that awaited them on the other side. Shad swings the sceptre at it — gasping when it comes to life and glows with the aura of command. His laughter floods the temple. It's wondrous! It thumps across the floor to follow them, echoing in the chamber, before the hammer touches the portal and the silver sheen of it spreads over the rest of the body. 

In the blink of an eye, it evaporates. 

* * *

The stillness in the forest shatters when the statue crashes out of the gate and onto the rough, web-woven ground. Auru, Rusl and Ashei watch on from the distant ledge above, their torches raised above the eight-legged stragglers left dead around them. They can hardly believe it when Shad waves to them from the crown of the giant. In fact, the look on their faces is priceless. 

The scholar turns to the void below, where Gohma waits in the shadows, and points the rod ahead. The statue silently obeys. The woods shake as it thunders onto the floor of the grove. 

Link appears seconds later — followed by a flash of light — as he detonates the ancient archway. The vision of the Temple within it crumbles to the ground. He has no time to be sentimental about it and follows Shad down. But in his haste to do so, he trips again and tumbles gracelessly into the arena. The web here was impossibly thick, no doubt a parting gift left by the swarms he’d doused in oil and fire. He swears quietly. 

Shad lowers the flat of the hammer towards him. “Climb aboard!” he shouts. 

He writhes to free himself, sensing tremors from behind the wall, before he hoists himself onto the giant’s arm and climbs up the shoulder. With Link out of the way, a small hail of fire arrows rains down from above and devours the hostile terrain in wisps of smoke. Gohma screeches. Though its lair is destroyed, its eye is focused on one thing, and one thing only… the soldier of rock who’d crushed it into oblivion mere moons ago. Shad doesn’t look intimidated at all. In fact, he seems to be enjoying himself.

He jumps back down, sword ready, smiling for the first time that night. “I could get used to working with you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” Shad chuckles quietly. “Shall we finish the job? I’ve been interested in these combat units since the first time I laid eyes on them.”

He nods, eager. “I’ll draw it out. You bring the hammer down.” 

“Consider it done.”


	23. Arguing (Part I)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Angst! Language warning!

“It doesn’t matter,” Link says. 

Shad can’t see the look on his face right now, but he feels the moment his eyes darken over with something like rain clouds, and the corners of his mouth crinkle into a frown. This was more than some simple disagreement. The muscles in his face grow tight with displeasure, and he slams his hand onto the table.

“I beg your pardon?” 

Link startles in his seat. It was nearly impossible to catch him off-guard. _Nearly._

But the eve of battle was a trying time for anybody. Shad had half-expected him to charge off alone, without so much as a contingency plan if that cursed place devoured him, alongside all those soldiers who never returned home. The fact that he was here was surprising enough. 

“What do you mean it doesn’t matter?” the scholar repeats, with quivering patience, his eyebrows arching in tandem. “Are you saying you don't factor into the equation at all?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Link says, refusing to look away. “You don’t get it. I can’t afford to think like other people… or feel like other people. Everything I do comes at a cost.” 

“I’m not asking you to cast aside your obligations,” Shad argues. He gets up mid-sentence and starts to pace, his footsteps creaking along the timber boards of his study. “What I’m asking you to consider is to avoid throwing your life away on some principle of recklessness. You cannot go into the castle with the mindset that your life is already forfeit! There are people waiting on you. And you mean the world to them. Let us help you make it back!”

“Shad, listen to me. I don’t have a _choice!”_

“There is always a choice.”

“No.” He shakes his head. “No, I can’t let you… I can’t let anybody get involved.”

“What do you think we signed up for?” Shad counters. “Link, we are the Resistance. We would give our lives for Hyrule one hundredfold!”

Link glowers back, his face heavily shadowed where his cheekbones begin and his jawline ends. He begins to look uncannily like something _else_ _—_ like a savage beast one might encounter on the road on a stormy night, against the best wishes of all who advised staying under cover. His eyes burn like ice, and he feels his mask slipping. Panic flashes inside. He immediately squints and scrambles to put himself back together. 

Farore no, it can’t happen here. Not in front of _him._

He talks himself off the edge, the way Midna does when there’s nobody else around. An argument was the very worst time for this to be happening, but his emotions were impossible to control with Shad in front of him, raising his voice. Clearly, something inside of him had snapped. He’d only ever known the scholar to be exceedingly polite, and the first to offer his ear and a roll of bandages when the going had gotten too rough.

For a split second, Shad senses the danger. It feels different, like a raw power is channeling itself into the room from the heavens. Like the Goddesses themselves are bearing witness to their conversation. He swears the desks have shuddered and the lights have wavered, not that they betray their differences. He pauses and then wonders if there might be ghosts playing tricks in his mind. 

“It’s because I love… those people waiting on me… that I need to do things alone,” Link says, carefully, with measured breath. “I need them safe.”

“And what exactly do you mean by that?” The scholar musters a glare. It’s quite startling with those blue, amaranthine eyes. “Why should you be the source of the danger when there’s a tyrant running over Hyrule Castle?”

“B-Because… we both… gah, _Shad-”_

“Link!” 

Link staggers out of his seat. It crashes onto the floor behind him. 

The scholar watches him, horrified, his anger all but evaporated. 

It’s too late to talk himself down now. The strange mark on his hand — the one he makes his best efforts to conceal, behind a leather glove — senses his distress, and a scalding white light dances beneath the surface. The thick material fails to conceal it. He had felt traces of it before — back when Ilia was taken from him, back when he watched Midna absorb the unwilling spirit of Lanayru. But not like this. Never like this. He wonders if it might be magnified by the other pieces that sang to him from beyond the gates. 

He groans. The power quakes and crackles within him, threatening to burst out of his arm like a dam. The loose papers of the study flutter into the air and a high-pitched note trembles the windows. His breathing quickens. He wonders if anyone else can hear it when the scholar doesn’t immediately cover his ears. 

“Your hand!” Shad gasps. “Goddesses, old boy, your hand, it’s-”

“Get back! Please!” 

Against his sobbing wishes, it flashes brighter and brighter. He closes his eyes and prays for it to cease. There’s no hiding it anymore. No concealing it in the name of normality, in the hope that those people he loved wouldn’t turn from him and run. 

Shad was there. 

Shad, who unabashedly cared for him. Shad, who’d dedicated his life to the study of myths. Shad… who refused to sit idly by while he destroyed himself in the name of the Goddesses. 

He thinks only of him. And then slowly, the light dies. 

He sits up from the floor a minute later, only faintly aware of those hands on his shoulders, and that lofty voice calling his name in soft tones. There’s a metallic taste in the back of his mouth. He swallows it down then turns to face him, his eyes sore and weeping from something other than the assault from his hand. His voice is thick between breaths. “… This thing. This fucking thing… I hate it. And there’s no escape. Even dying won’t stop it.”

Shad stares back at him — his eyes wide with fright and his mouth covered, politely — utterly floored. 

“I’m cursed,” he says bitterly. 

And then he tears through the door and walks into the night.


	24. Making Up Afterwards (Part II)

It’s dreary outside; the sort of gloom that only happens between the edges of autumn and winter. Though they were on the brink of summer, Shad hadn’t found himself bothering to question it. Too much had changed over the course of the year. What more was a little cold? He waives the very notion of a coat, as he steps onto the pavement and shouts Link’s name down the empty streets. 

He knows he can’t have gone too far. 

He checks the closed shopping strip just outside of the bar. There are rippling puddles beneath the light of the street torches and the city drain roars beneath his feet. No. Not here. He wanders down the adjacent alley, well-known for its clowder of cats. They greet him silently from the tops of roofs, and trees, and bins, their eyes blaring white through the stillness. Link often walked with a trail of them at his feet. But not tonight. 

He passes the fountain in the town square.

He peers through the darkened window slats of the newly opened Malo Mart. 

He even brings himself to the stables at the other end of town, filled with sleeping goats with circular horns, native to his hometown. But there isn’t a whisker of him to be found. 

With a sigh, he decides to crawl back to the bar and wait for Link to show himself there — gambling on the fact that he wouldn’t leave things like this while the battle loomed ahead — and takes the park route home. It’s after hours for the circus tent, and the puppy that often scampers down the street, wiggling its tail at any passersby, is nowhere to be seen. He hopes it has a place to stay indoors.

That’s when he feels it. He halts in the rain. And waits. 

Something’s watching him. 

“Hello? Show yourself at once!”

A heavy, incomprehensible figure darts from the grass and into the bushes by a tree, blending almost seamlessly into the grey. It sends his heart racing. Goddesses, what was that! He starts to wonder if it’s real, before he looks again and notices a sliver of light pouring out from the corner of the dark; a fraction of the phenomenon that nearly blinded him in the study before. Oh. Could it be? 

The scholar stands and stares, feeling vulnerable and admittedly a little dumb, until he finds his nerve and inches forward. The creature snarls. He freezes in his tracks. 

“Link?” he calls. 

Silence. 

He chances another couple of steps before the beast gives up the ruse and leaps out in front of him, head lowered, ears flattened, fangs bared between the rumbling that pours out from its chest. The smell of wet dog permeates the air. Of all things sacred, it is a wolf! He looks again, closer, studying the perspicuous markings that run over the top of its skull and the familiar glow from the back of its paw. A strange comfort takes hold from the base of his mind, washing over him in the place of the rain. 

It isn’t any old wolf. It’s _that wolf._

His own hand trembles as he reaches out. He knows he will lose it if he’s wrong. 

“Link, I… know it’s you.” 

The animal refuses to back down. It gives two sharp warning barks, shooting adrenaline through his neck and arms. Its blue eyes are ferocious, though unmistakable. 

“You would never hurt me.”

The wolf snarls a little while longer. There’s a clap of thunder in the distance, as the weather breaks the silence between them. Eventually, Shad’s hand closes the gap and finds its place on his head. He holds his breath. The wolf grows quiet. 

The hand is a comfort. It’s the only source of warmth in the soaking dark, and he craves the touch, however meagre and afraid it is. He closes his eyes. A mournful whine escapes from his throat. And then he sits down, the way a dog might, and curls his tail around him. The shadows pull inwards like water sucked into a vortex, obscuring his body as he contorts, painlessly, into the shape of a human. 

Link crouches in the grass before him, mostly untouched, but for the lingering red in the whites of his eyes. The mark of the Triforce glimmers softly on the back of his hand, winking at Shad through the dark. 

“Should’ve known,” he says bitterly. “I can’t hide the damn thing.” 

Shad’s happiness is fleeting, as is his smile. The expression on his face cracks suddenly with guilt, and indeed a little bit of shame. 

“There’s no need to hide, Link,” he murmurs. “I must confess, I’ve studied you far more than I’ve let on. I suppose before it was mostly conjecture. However, seeing you now… I believe I have most of the pieces of the puzzle assembled.”

It’s Link’s turn to stare at him now. 

He has to wonder what’s wrong with him. Now was not the time to be rattling off about all the knowledge he thought he had. 

“The wolf doesn’t scare you?”

“Oh, come on now,” he says with an air of levity. “The ‘town wolf’ is old news. It was all people ever talked about at Telma’s before we closed up for meetings.” He winces. “No, I’m talking about… your identity.”

Link laughs. “Which one?”

The fact that he hasn’t turned back into the wolf and bitten him at this stage is almost encouraging.

“Th-the manner in which you dressed was my first little tip,” Shad continues, recalling their explosive frankness in the study before. “I thought it had to be a perfect replica of the Hero’s tunic! But as the tales of your exploits made their way to the war table, I realised the truth of it was much simpler. These were not the actions of a copycat, albeit a highly talented one, blessed with the physical aptitude for such feats. You _are_ the Hero himself. Are you not? His blood runs in your veins.” 

He swallows thickly. This was either stupid and tactless, or extremely stupid and tactless.

“I might be.” 

“And this ‘curse,’ as you succinctly put it, is tied into that. It is the reason you wish to leave us all behind, yes? And… the reason you’ve pushed me away all this time.” 

The hero looks away. Shad begins to wonder if it is shame or sadness being mirrored back to him in that lonely expression, before Link speaks again, his voice barely audible. “Do the others know? I could never tell Rusl. If he looked at me differently, I-I’d never-” 

“I haven’t shared my inane theories with them,” Shad assures him, quietly, wounded by his own shortsightedness. “Despite my many books on the legend. But to be honest with you, I feel it would make little difference. In fact, I have an inkling they might have reached the same conclusion in their own hearts. And that they do not fear the truth of it… any more than I do.” 

A small sound escapes Link’s nose. “Do you fear anything, Shad?”

“Yes,” he confesses. “Letting you go into that castle alone.”

The rain is lighter now. It hasn’t stopped, but the mist from the pavement falls away with each minute. The scent of petrichor fills their lungs from the garden. Shad studies the small, shaken man in front of him once more. He sees a soul burdened with impossible odds; a boy, whose shape was broken and bent countless times to adapt to the world around him. He was a wolf, and a soldier, and a champion who slaved in the dark while the world waited, behind shut doors. He was the key to everything. 

It seems wrong that all he can offer Link now is a promise not to walk in the night without company. But he would make that promise as fervently as he could.

“So… please, old boy. Do you think that you could trust us a little more? We may not be as important or as powerful as the Sages in the old stories. But that doesn’t mean we cannot be of aid.” 

Against his most bated expectations, Link nods. He finds that cursed hand upon his own shoulder, gripping him tightly, without a hint of fear. 

“Alright, Shad.”

The light finally goes out. 

“I’ll trust you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I still want this challenge finished, but ohhh boy, was 2020 full of surprises. 
> 
> I’m juggling a mixture of grief and non-stop work and an upcoming surgery *finger guns*, however I still want to continue my stories when the opportunity arises. My deepest thanks to everyone who’s stayed on. The next chapter will be Part III of this miniature drama. 
> 
> PS: Apologies for any grammatical errors, I am a little rusty.


	25. Gazing At Each Other (Part III)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rusl said gay rights.
> 
> Sorry if this seems disjointed or whatever, I smashed this out one afternoon and I NEED this story finished, haha.

The bar’s windows are murky orange in the distance. 

Link often saw Telma resting her arm against the counter there most nights, disguising the little amount of sleep she ran on. He’d mustered the courage to enquire about it when she turned a little too quickly to address him and had to catch herself. Her cat bumped its head against her shin, as though to ground her. “Are you worried about little old me?” she’d teased. He expected her to say something more on the matter, but then she went back to sweeping the doorway.

He never did learn why the proprietress insisted on keeping impossibly long hours until Rusl mentioned it once, in passing. They were in the middle of one of their talks, when he’d rolled up his sleeves and shown the scars he’d taken trying to win the children back. Link had flinched. He remembered that earth-shattering crack over his head and the taste of blood filling his mouth as the water crashed against his face. 

“If Uli had not been there to treat me in time, I would be useless to our cause.” Rusl laughed dryly. The implication was clear. “I hope you never find yourself in that position, Link… but if you do, you can always come back to us. Someone will be here for you.” 

“Has that ever happened?” Link mumbled. “To one of you?” 

Rusl cast a glance around the room before lowering his voice. “We get a sprained wrist here and a buried arrowhead there. None of us are indestructible. And Telma worries for the lot of us. Although in your case, I’d say you have another reliable option.” The tone of his voice was suddenly mirthful.

“What do you mean?”

“Shad has been brushing up on his medical training. We never asked him to do such a thing, but that debacle with the local doctor really added to Telma’s concerns. I find his willingness to adapt to be a very admirable trait.” 

“O-Oh. Uh. Me too.” 

“And I see you’re not put off by his chattiness, either.” Rusl laughed again. “Perhaps you might find it easier to confide in him? It’s a shame we didn’t have more men your age back home.” 

Link smiled a little. He was wounded by the implication that he hadn’t confided in Rusl so much lately… but he was right. The dynamic between them was less teacher and student, and more familial lately. And family was sacred. It was to be protected at all costs. If he’d had nowhere to return to once this was all over, then what was the point? 

“Thanks, Rusl. I’ll… think about it,” he’d said quietly.

It’s Shad who opens the door first when they approach the threshold. He steps inside, dripping water from his coat all over the floor, followed by Link whose hair clings to him in dark strands of sand brown. The scholar regards him silently for a moment. He pats him gently on the shoulder, as though to congratulate him for coming back. Link squeezes his hand. They look at each other before setting in. 

It surprises neither of them to see Telma out of bed, fiddling with something behind the counter at whatever ungodly time this was. She looks over her shoulder and narrows her eyes at them, smiling. But what does catch them off-guard is the presence of Auru, Ashei and Rusl at the meeting table. The three were hunched over some sort of print that lay over the map of Hyrule. Shad’s brows knit with annoyance, presumably for the fact that they’d started without him. Link hides how much this look amuses him. 

“Link! Good to have you back,” Rusl calls. His words are casual enough. 

“We were just running over something real quick,” Ashei says, being unusually vague and averting her eyes. “You two, sit down.” 

They obey. 

“What’s this?” Link asks, doing his best to sound innocuous. 

“A plan for the castle. _If_ something happens to that barrier. Y’know. _Incase.”_

Shad cringes. If Link had no idea that they all knew he was up to something, he certainly would’ve cottoned onto them by now. 

“And what makes you think something will happen to it?” 

Ashei glares at the table, caught between doing this and cleaving her way out with words. 

Link meets Shad’s gaze. The scholar feels alarm ringing in his ears, until he notices something new and not at all expected in the wolf’s eyes. It’s… a glint of mischief. Fleeting. And private. Shad forces himself to look away and chuckles. 

“We’ve gathered enough intelligence to notice a weakening of the evil in Hyrule,” Auru offers, stepping in for Ashei’s distaste for secrets. Her expression lifts with relief. “There have been subtle changes, such as fewer monsters on the road, and more ostentatious reports of the lands shifting. The Gerudo Desert has ceased its encroach onto Lake Hylia.” 

Rusl nods. “The Faron Woods are at peace. And I’ve noticed the stone giants have made way for something, or someone.” 

“The blizzards at Snowpeak have stopped,” Ashei adds clinically. 

Shad feels three sets of eyes on him at once, and switches roles. “O-Oh, uh! And would you believe that Sky Canon has all but vanished from the basement of Kakariko Village? By some strange magic, old boy.” 

The scholar meets his gaze and finds that familiar roguish delight. He’d never noticed this side of Link before. It seemed almost like a shadow that lived within him, that no one else could see until they _knew._

“This is all good news, right?” 

“Depends who you ask on my end.” Shad clears his throat and fights back a smirk. “I hope whoever moved the canon hasn’t planned on keeping it to themselves.” 

It’s Link’s turn to cringe. He’d forgotten that the truth could be a double-edged sword. 

“Focus, yeah?” Ashei snaps. The nearby candle flickers when she smacks the table. “This is bigger than your research. It’s about everyone in Hyrule. And those in the neighbouring provinces! This affects _everyone.”_

“Apologies,” Shad offers. He meets her indignation with a sober and measured voice. “You’re quite right. And it isn’t my usual nature to be so short-sighted.” 

“I know that,” Link assures him, softly. “We all do. You like to plan ahead. You’re an adaptable person, Shad.”

The scholar turns away. Nobody can be sure that he’s blushing beneath the grim mood at the table. He expects to see a set of azure blue eyes combing him for the cracks in his facade, however, mercifully, Link appears to be studying the map of the castle instead. 

“Should we run through the plan from start to finish? We’ll need to bring Shad up to speed, after all,” Rusl broaches. 

Shad notices him looking at his understudy as he says this. In fact, all of their eyes have been trained on him for some time. 

Given everything that had happened, his last want was to send him into battle with their involvement weighing on the back of his mind. Until now, Link had been something of a lone agent — a hidden member of the Resistance, who happened to show up at the opportune moment and leave things in a better state than what they were. His methods were inscrutable. As was that heart of his…

Link tears his mind from the battle and faces Shad alone. The others are there, their souls hungry for retribution, stowed safely into the background. 

“I’d like to see the plan, too,” he mutters. 

He feels that dreaded tingle beginning to creep into his left hand, knowing that it will only get stronger if he panics. He swallows. And does nothing. The light withdraws, the truth of it sitting dormant in his veins and in Shad’s mind. 

“If we work together, we stand the best chance of winning,” he continues. “None of us are… indestructible.” 

“Of course you aren’t. That’s why I’m not sending you all in there empty-handed!” Telma’s voice startles out whatever panic is left in him. She hands him something bright and blue in a bottle, glowing frightfully against the tavern light. 

“Holding out on the good stuff, huh?” Ashei jests. 

“I have contacts, you know. And it doesn’t hurt to use a little charm on them every now and then.” She throws a wink at the table, and Link allows himself a laugh, along with Shad when he meets his eyes. 

The night winds down to a close. 

He watches as the Resistance bid each other some decidedly formal words of comfort, knowing this might be the last time they would all be together. Like soldiers, they were resigned to their fates. Even if Rusl had spent half of the meeting inspecting his newly-repaired helmet, and Auru had been oiling the notches on whatever gun he’d had fashioned uptown, and Ashei had finally taken some friendly advice and rested the fatigue out of her eyes. Even if they had done every conceivable thing to prepare. 

Even if, Shad had taken it upon himself to stop Link as he approached the door to the guest room, and fumbled before him, knowing what he wanted to say but debating the ethics of it at such a dreadful time. He feels as though his neck and chest might be on fire. Not unlike the volatile light that threatened to pour out of Link’s hand at any moment and consume him. 

“I-I merely wanted to say good luck, and that I… well, I’m proud of you for coming around. And for trusting me. You know that I will be fighting for the chance to see you again, yes?” He bites his lip, hoping to both convey _and_ downplay his feelings. “I mean, to think that we happened to be here, at this same time and place, at this point in history, old boy. It’s nothing short of a miracle! I — oh —!” 

He gasps, and discovers a rough set of lips on his forehead, just between his brows. Link has to lean up to do it. He steadies himself and then leans down into the touch as best he can. Goddesses, Hylia! He wonders if this might actually be happening or if this was some dizzying side-effect from the phenomenon he’d witnessed in the study. Yes! This all had to be some sort of sensory hallucination from the Hero’s power! 

But if that were the case, then why did he smell so much like hay soaked in the rain? Why were those eyes right in front of his own, with only a sheet of glass between them, baring down into him well away from the table? 

“I’ve been fighting to see you too.”  
  
The words blind him with the force of the sun. 


End file.
